


The Bringer of Death

by secooper87



Series: Adventures of a Line Hopper [16]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Psychological Torture, Torture, Vampires, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-11-25 17:18:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 38
Words: 109,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secooper87/pseuds/secooper87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a sadistic vampire gang gets their hands on the Doctor, it's up to Buffy, the Slayers, and some of the Doctor's other friends to rescue him. But can they reach him before the world ends? Or will the vampires succeed in breaking him? SERIOUS DOCTORWHUMP!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer. This story contains swearing, torture, implied non-con, and serious creepiness. As with all my stories, nothing sexual is described in graphic detail. But it's definitely mentioned.
> 
> (I, personally, think the creepiest part of this story isn't the sex. But that's just me.)
> 
> On the other hand, if you want DoctorWhump, this story is _DoctorWhump central_!
> 
> When I read through this story, the thing that strikes me is that there are a lot of funny moments, despite the fact that it's really dark. Unlike "Nothing", you get some light patches. But the dark patches are far darker than in "Nothing".
> 
> Also, I seem to have killed off the entire cast of "Angel". Except Angel and Spike. Sorry about that.
> 
> But Jack Harkness is in this story, instead!
> 
> I went completely AU in the Buffyverse after the TV series ended. Dr. Who should be completely in keeping with the canon.

**July, 2004**

.

"Well," said the Doctor, scratching his head. "LA certainly _looks_ like it's in the right dimension."

He double-checked the dimensional scanner he'd assembled, beforehand, then shoved it into a pocket, strolling along the sidewalk. He frowned, as he stopped in front of a pile of rubble.

"Although, admittedly," he remarked to no one in particular, "this building's seen better days."

He squinted at a fallen and charred sign, lying in pieces on the ground, which appeared to be inscribed with the words, "Wolfram and Hart". The Doctor had an odd feeling, in the back of his mind, that there was something about the phrase "Wolfram and Hart" that he should know. That he had heard it mentioned in passing, quite a number of times, and knew it was important. But he didn't, for the life of him, know what it was.

Which was a wee bit odd.

"You're two months late," came a voice behind the Doctor.

The Doctor swung around, a grin already on his face, a reply already tumbling from his lips. "Encountered a bit of time turbulence right around 2003 — knocked me off course. You wouldn't happen to…?"

The Doctor stopped, as he recognized the person he was now facing. No, scratch that. The angry mob of people he was now facing. Who were, it appeared, circling him.

"Philippe de Gascon," the Doctor said to the man at the front of the mob. He tried to give his best perky smile. "Well, it's been a while! How've you been?"

"Aging."

The Doctor gave a small shrug. "To be expected, really," he said. "What with your being human, now. How long has it been, for you?"

Philippe's eyes grew hard and cold, his face becoming angry. "20 years."

"Blimey," said the Doctor. "20 whole years? Came the short route, myself."

"20 years," Philippe spat, "and every single one of them spent plotting to get back at the bastard who made me like this!"

"What? You spent twenty years planning your revenge?" said the Doctor. "That's more time than the Count of Monte Cristo."

"Some of us have been human even longer," said Philippe. "Forced to age and feel again — because of you. You and your… poisoned blood!"

The circle of angry humans began to close in on him, and the Doctor darted his eyes around, looking for escape options.

"I gave you all your chance," the Doctor informed them.

"You gave us nothing!" shouted Philippe. "A soul? Humanity? Mortality? Guilt? I never wanted them! None of us ever wanted them! You forced them on us all!"

"And you've spent twenty years trying to get rid of them?" the Doctor asked. He groaned. "Blimey, get over it, already! You're human, now. So go out, find a girl, find a flat, and live your life! "

The mob began to jeer, confirming the Doctor's suspicions — that 'living their lives' wasn't precisely what they had in mind.

"We've got a better idea," said Philippe, edging forwards and revealing a very nasty-looking Angrovanian Shock-Collar, probably raided from a crashed slave ship flying too close to Earth.

Although why this lot would have something like that was beyond the Doctor. He'd been under the impression that vampires — and ex-vampires — were usually fairly technophobic.

Philippe lunged for the Doctor, but he jumped backwards, scooting out of the way. And was caught by the other members of the angry mob, behind him. Right. Yes. This was going to be a wee bit difficult to get out of.

"Nowhere to run," Philippe said, an evil grin spreading across his face. "No one to save you. Not even your friend Angel will be able to come to your rescue this time."

The Doctor blinked. "Sorry, did you just call Angel my _friend_?"

"You gave us humanity," Philippe snapped, raising up the collar, menacingly, "and it's time you paid."

"Oh, yes, yes, absolutely!" the Doctor said, fixing his eyes on the collar. "Only, see, you might want to look up the meaning of the word 'friend', since I'm fairly certain you…" He stopped, then frowned. "That collar. It's red."

Philippe glanced at the collar, a little more nervously. Then hid his nerves under a mask of hardness. "It's a shock-collar. It doesn't matter what color it is."

The Doctor grinned. "Well, see, does a bit, because the Angrovanians stopped making the red ones. Few years back. Come to think of it, they stopped right around the time they discovered I could do… this!" And grabbing his sonic out of his pocket, he aimed it at exactly the weak-spot in the wiring, creating an ear-shattering boom of high-pitched resonance, making the no-longer-vampires nearby double up, clutching their ears.

The Doctor leapt past his captors, and ran.

"Freed five thousand Angrovanian slaves when I worked that one out!" he called back to them, over his shoulder. "Brilliant, that was!" And with a wave, added, "Have good human lives!"

The sparking flash of the collar being destroyed, and Philippe's cry of, "Get him!", and the Doctor decided he'd outstayed his welcome. He ran faster.

He didn't know what other alien tech this lot had.

He didn't know if they had already surrounded the TARDIS (although he suspected they had).

He didn't know if they'd just kill him straight out, the moment they caught him, or if they had something else in mind.

But he knew that this situation could get exceedingly bad. And very quickly.

"Contingency plan," the Doctor muttered, rooting around in his pockets. And prayed that he'd be able to get the object he wanted to the right people, before the ex-vampires caught up with him.

* * *

"Let me go."

The words always sounded exactly the same, whenever he said them. A plea for understanding. An appeal to her better nature. A demand for kindness.

Buffy couldn't look into his eyes, as she wrapped the next set of chains around his body. "I can't."

"You're better than this," the Doctor told her, as he was restrained, more and more, to the wall behind him. "You know that this is wrong."

Buffy paused, her hand reaching for a padlock nearby. "If I let you go," she whispered, securing this padlock — beside so many others — to the Doctor's chains, "you'll leave me, again."

"And if you don't," the Doctor countered, "then what's the alternative?"

Buffy reached out, to grab a hand — his hand — which was wrapped in irons. "You'll be here," she said. "Alive. With me. Forever."

The Doctor tried to pull his hand away, but there were too many restraints, too many chains and ropes and metal bands, too many things holding him in place. "This isn't life," he told her. "Don't you understand? If you do this — if I'm locked up here forever — you'll be sentencing me to a living death."

She looked up, then, meeting his eyes with her own, the hints of tears shining therein. "Then you'll know," she whispered, "how it feels to be me."

Buffy sat jolt upright in bed, suddenly awake, her breath coming fast as her hands clutched the sheets. Her mouth formed words, protests, but she had no voice to give to them.

"The same dream?" Dawn asked, folding her legs as she sat on the bed beside Buffy.

"Nightmare," Buffy corrected. She shuddered. "Same one. Ever since Sunnydale. It's like…" She paused, her brain suddenly registering her surroundings. She stared at Dawn. "Wait, how did you know that?"

Dawn shrugged.

"And… and what are you doing here?" Buffy asked, looking around at her Cleveland apartment. Then snapped her head back to Dawn, again. "No, wait. What am _I_ doing here? I'm in London, right now."

"Yeah," Dawn said. "Sorry. You're not actually awake. You're still dreaming." She leaned forwards, and whispered, conspiratorially, "She just wanted to make sure you knew."

"Who?" Buffy asked.

A hot gust of wind swept through Buffy's apartment, blowing away the nighttime visage of a crowded room draped in darkness, ushering in the view of a desert-scape in its place. Buffy shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun, as she made out the form of Sineya — the first Slayer — emerging from the sand.

"Oh," Buffy said. "Gotcha." She tried to get up, out of bed, but the moment she stepped out into the desert, the sand burned her feet. So she decided the bed was a better option. She knelt on the covers, and called to Sineya, "What do you want me to know?"

"Death," said Sineya, dancing around Buffy.

Buffy frowned. "Okay. Slayer. Vampires. Get a lot of that. What about death?"

"Well, everyone will die," Dawn explained. She reached out to pat her sister's hand. " _Everyone_."

"The world will change," Sineya sang, in her whispered, low voice. "An age will end. A choice will be made, and history will transform. Death is coming. Death for all."

Buffy felt a shiver run down her spine, but she'd been through way too many apocalypses to let this really get through to her. "But I can stop it."

"You can, but you will not," Sineya replied. "Time has already been set. The inevitable has only been delayed. Death is coming, and you are the cause. Death is coming, and you will embrace it."

Buffy remembered what the unnamed, omniscient entity in the leather jacket had told her, just after she'd defeated the First. That the events that had happened in Elizabeth's 2003 will happen in her own timeline, and have only been delayed. Not prevented.

Elizabeth caused 38,000 people to die. And Buffy, in this timeline…

Tendrils of real fear began to slither through Buffy's veins.

"Why are you afraid?" Dawn asked, looking a little confused by Buffy's unease. "You haven't even heard the scary part, yet."

Buffy snapped her head around. "What do you mean?"

Dawn leaned in closer, so close that their foreheads were almost touching. "Your nightmares," she whispered, her eyes almost glowing with the power of the Slayer, "will come true."

Buffy woke up.

* * *

"So that's basically the school," Willow said, finishing up her tour back in the front lobby. She gestured at the Scythe, still hanging in its place of honor, for everyone to see, in the front entrance of the new Slayer Institution. "We're sort of a full-medical staffed, full-psychiatric staffed, all-training-included investigatory team and fighting force to get rid of the forces of darkness. And go up against evil monsters. And… a lot of apocalypse preventing. Did I mention that?"

Carla, the newbie that Willow had been showing around, seemed a little bewildered. "And this is where all of us… magical Slayer people… wind up?"

"That's the plan," Willow agreed. Then, realizing she'd said the wrong thing, "I mean, that's not just the plan, that's what's happening right now! But… it's kind of a new thing, so… yeah! Slayer Institute. World Savers Extraordinaire."

Carla nodded, slowly. Glancing around at the Institute. "Why isn't anyone doing anything?"

Willow hesitated. "Well… Buffy's in Europe, right now," she admitted. "But when she gets back, you'll see. We're a really well put together team."

And decided it was better not to mention that she, Xander, Dawn, and a handful of others always took over the world-saving operation when Buffy wasn't around. Because there was no way they could get the rest of the girls to actually do anything, when Buffy wasn't here.

"And this… Buffy," said Carla, "has never been away, before, or something?"

"Oh, no," said Faith, walking by. "She's always away." She made little air quotations. "'Locating the Watchers Council's lost funds.'"

Carla looked back over at Willow.

"It's a hard job," Willow insisted.

"What's the 'Watchers Council'?" Carla asked. "And why do they have funds that need locating?"

"Well, you see," said Xander, approaching, "way, way back, in the legendary and ancient days of 2002 AD, there was an organization in England called the Watchers Council. That was very rich. But they got blown up. And, apparently, we've got a right to their money — provided we can show up in England and do some serious legal stuff." He gave a grin. "And you'd think that the Watchers Council's money would all be in banks and investment offices and places like that. But, it turns out, you'd be wrong. Buffy's been searching for that money… well, in Devil's End…"

"Chiswick," put in Faith.

"Right outside of UNIT's old headquarters from the 70's," Willow added.

"Oh, yeah," Xander agreed. "A ton of Watchers Council Funds all over there!"

"Don't forget the Powell Estates!" Faith threw in.

"But, basically," said Xander, "as far as we can tell, most of the Watchers Council's funds are located in a magical, vanishing and reappearing blue Police Box. As soon as Buffy finds that — she's hit the jackpot!"

Carla stared at them all, as if they were insane. "Huh?"

"Cut it out, guys," came Dawn's voice, as she emerged from her office. She turned to Carla. "Buffy's just looking for her friend. That's all." She turned around, and left.

"Who was that?" Carla asked the others.

"Buffy's sister," said Willow, as Faith said, "The other reason Buffy's spending so much time in London."

Carla seemed confused.

"Buffy's heart's in the right place," Xander told Faith. "She loves her sister. A lot. What's happening in England has nothing whatsoever to do with Dawn."

"Oh, yeah," Kennedy cut in, entering the room. "It's a complete coincidence that Rose just so happens to _also_ be a 19-year-old troublemaker who always runs away and gets herself into serious danger at all the wrong moments."

"And is being stalked by an all-powerful, nameless evil entity," added Willow. "That wants to kill her at a particular temporal point in the future."

"Complete coincidence," Faith agreed.

Carla looked between the various different people that had chimed in during this episode. And decided that, whatever the deal was with Buffy, it was way too complicated for her to ever understand.


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor came to, restrained but still alive.

Wait, alive?

Well, that was good, if a bit surprising. He'd expected to be dead by now. Stroke of luck, really, being kept alive this long.

Course, if he was really, _really_ lucky, this lot that caught him might not be planning what the Doctor assumed they'd be planning. If he was really, really lucky, this lot might simply want to kill him in some horrible blood sacrifice or something. Or use his life force energy to manifest a demon.

(Why didn't anyone ever do that anymore? That was the sort of thing he was terribly good at weaseling out of.)

The Doctor tested the restraints around his wrists and ankles. Well, that was odd. Not the simple handcuffs he'd expected. No, this was alien technology — a sort of bio-electric handcuff system that bonded with the prisoner's flesh, the moment the cuffs were locked. Which was odd, because the only way that sort of thing could work was if the Doctor's own biodata had been programmed into the cuffs ahead of time.

And with the fall of Gallifrey, no one had that.

"You won't escape," came Philippe's voice.

The Doctor looked up, to find Philippe standing over him, the key to the restraints clenched in his fist. The bio-locked key. The only way the Doctor could possibly get out of this.

"Interesting choice of technology," the Doctor said. "Actually, bit impressed. Most ex-vampires wind up being terrible technophobes."

Philippe stepped aside, revealing a squat man with matted brown hair. "Meet Ed. Our engineer." He gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, I forgot. You already have!"

Ah. Right. The Doctor remembered Ed. Once a brilliant scientist of the Victorian Era, turned into a vampiric killing machine, and then turned human by the Doctor a few years back.

"And I suppose you want revenge, too?" the Doctor asked Ed, with a sigh. "Honestly, none of you could think up anything better to do with your time?"

"I joined your enemies," said Ed. "Torchwood. And there, I learned a great deal about you, Doctor. About the threat you pose to this world, about your dubious allegiance to humanity, about the many times you showed up claiming to help us, while the death toll for the humans involved was—"

"Sorry, are you actually trying to give me a _morality lesson_?" the Doctor asked. "You? Edward the Bloodthirsty? Blimey, you really _have_ regained your humanity."

"Not for long," Philippe cut in. "We've struck a deal."

Oh, dear. That was precisely what the Doctor had been afraid of.

"Listen to me very carefully, Philippe," the Doctor said. "You remember what it's like. You remember their mindset. They won't turn you back, not for anything. Being outsmarted by me — that's a sign of weakness, in their eyes. Whatever deal you've made, they'll never honor it."

"We caught you, a Time Lord — the ancestral enemy of the vampires," Philippe countered. "That will be enough to demonstrate our strength."

"No, it won't!" the Doctor shouted. "Can't you see? They'll steal me and kill you all!"

"What you see as death, we see as life!" said Philippe.

"But not this sort of death," the Doctor insisted. "You'll be dead. Well and truly dead, and you won't be coming back. Not as a vampire, not as a zombie, not as anything. Believe me, Philippe, you've made a mistake!" He looked Philippe right in the eye. "Now. Untie me, and maybe I can help you survive this."

Philippe laughed.

Just then, the door banged open, and the Doctor could feel, on the periphery of his senses, exactly what sort of creatures were entering the room. A whole gang of them, it felt like. All salivating with hunger and longing for blood.

The no-longer-vampires gathered around Philippe, standing to greet their inhuman visitors. The vampires stopped, just inside, studying the Doctor intensely, their eyes darting over his restrained form. The Doctor could hear the vampire's voices as they hissed and enthused over their latest catch.

Usually, the Doctor knew, he'd be able to trick them. Make them drink his blood while he still had the cure in his veins, so that they'd become human. But the no-longer-vampires would have already warned them about that.

Which was bad news for the Doctor.

"You spoke the truth," said the head of the vampires, giving a (really rather creepy) sniff. "He _is_ a Time Lord."

"And he's yours," said Philippe. "To do with as you please. We ask for only one thing in return. Immortality."

The Doctor knew exactly what was coming next. And Philippe should have, too. 20 years ago, he'd have done the same. 20 years ago, he'd have thought like that, too. But 20 years was a long time — long enough for Philippe to forget what it was like to live without a conscience.

The vampires' faces morphed, their yellow eyes fixed on the humans.

"Or," said the leader of the vampires, "we could just take the Time Lord, and kill you all."

And the vampires descended.

The next few minutes were filled with the horrified screams of beings who had forgotten how cruel the vampiric mindset really was. The splatter of blood throughout the room, the smell of terror pumping through the air, the destruction happening too swiftly for the Doctor to process.

He had to stop this.

The Doctor scanned the bodies for Philippe. There. The Doctor managed to inch his way forwards, bit by bit, towards the body he wanted. Philippe's lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling, his neck still oozing the last droplets of blood, his face pale and cold and completely dead. That look of shock and betrayal was still planted on his face, as if he'd really, really believed that, at the end of all this, the vampires would honor their agreement and turn him back.

If the Doctor could just get close enough… if he could just find the key and break free…

That was when the Doctor felt himself yanked upwards, and found himself face-to-face with a far too pale face.

"Hello, there," said the vampire. "Trying to run away?"

The vampire made a motion as if to bite down on the Doctor's neck, but was knocked away by a strong hand. The Doctor was dropped.

"Oliver," came a scolding voice.

The Doctor hit the floor with a thud. Ow. Blimey, he hated vampires. And considering how often he'd run into them, recently, that was terribly bad for him.

The Doctor set out to resume his inching towards Philippe's body. Which didn't wind up happening, as a booted foot slammed down onto his ribcage, rolling him onto his back and pinning him to the ground.

"So this is it?" the owner of the boot said. "This is what we've been afraid of all these years? This pathetic little thing?"

The boot came away, and the Doctor rolled out of the way before the vampire who owned it could reach down and pick him up. He was now rolling away from Philippe's body, but he'd worry about that later.

Another pair of cold hands picked him up, dragging him upright. The new vampire — a woman — inhaled as she set him on his feet in front of her, her eyes growing hungrier by the second as her face transformed into an animalistic, fanged visage.

"Now, now, Leandra," said the vampire with the boots — the leader, it looked like. "Wait until the time is right." He was a tall, dark vampire, with sleeked black hair. He wore a pressed black suit with a tie the same yellow color as his malicious, greedy eyes. He advanced towards the Doctor, his every step careful, calculated, and heavy.

"Oh, but he smells so delicious," Leandra complained, pulling him closer towards her. "And I'm so hungry." She leaned forwards and sniffed at his neck, longingly, her hands clasped around his arms.

"Right, yes, sorry, but would you mind not doing that?" the Doctor asked, trying to squirm away from her. "It's rather off-putting."

By this time, other vampires had begun to swarm around him, examining him as if he were a delicacy at a banquet. Well, this was very, very not good.

"Two hearts," said the one previously identified as Oliver, as it circled him. "This'll be a juicy one all right. Don't you think, Joe?"

"Smell the different aromas of his blood in the air!" another — Joe, perhaps? — moaned, as it circled him in the opposite direction. "Surely this is the food of the gods."

Leandra pulled him closer to her, hissing at the others.

"Patience, patience, everyone," the leader informed them. "Legends say there is plenty of blood for all. But we must wait for our banquet. Once the time is right, when the poison has left his bloodstream and it is safe to dine upon him, then we shall feed."

The vampires circling the Doctor gave a chuckle cold enough to freeze an arctic penguin. Their eyes lingered upon him, their feet jumpy and juddery, as if they were barely containing themselves from jumping out and tearing him apart where he stood.

The Doctor glanced over at the leader. "How long?"

"The clock is ticking down to your doom, Time Lord," said the leader, a crooked smile on his lips. "You cannot hope to—"

"No, really," the Doctor insisted. "How long? How many hours? How many minutes? How many seconds? You promised this lot a feast. So when's dinnertime, then?"

The leader faltered, his confidence slipping a hair.

The Doctor grinned, meeting the leader's glowing yellow eyes. "You don't know, do you?"

"We'll find out soon enough!" hissed Leandra.

"Will you, now?" the Doctor asked. He glanced over at the vampires surrounding him. "Who's first, then? First one to drink my blood and see if it's safe? Who's the royal food tester around here?"

The leader now visibly hesitated, clasping his hands behind his back, his posture drooping just slightly in the dark night air.

The Doctor's eyes fixed on the leader, as his grin stretched even wider. "Oh, but you don't want a royal food tester, do you?" he said. "Because if my cure hasn't worn off, and your vampires become human — well, that's no big loss, you'd just kill them. Problem is, if the cure _has_ worn off — if they _don't_ die —then they'll become stronger than you. And you wouldn't take that risk."

"I will be the first to taste your blood, Time Lord," the leader assured the Doctor with a snarl.

"Ah! But if it turns out it's _not_ safe, then my blood would either kill you, or make you human," the Doctor said. "And that's something you wouldn't risk, either." He beamed. "Which means you're never going to drink my blood. I'm perfectly safe."

There was a snarl, as two vampires lugged a barely-alive human being towards the head vampire. The human being that the Doctor recognized as Ed.

"This one begs an audience with you, Razor," said the vampires.

The head vampire — Razor? What a rubbish name for a vampire! — nodded at the restrained Ed, his yellow eyes gleaming with interest.

"We built… a machine," Ed said. "I know how to use it. If you make me… one of you… I could show you. Allow you to drain him without any risk of injury to yourselves."

A smile twitched on Razor's lips. "A machine, you say?"

Oh, bugger. The Doctor had to get out of here, and fast. He tried to adjust his stance so that he could slip out of the vampires' grasps and dive towards the exit, but Leandra caught the movement and yanked him back, her hands clutching him tight enough to leave marks. She gave a growl.

"Oh, no, you don't," she said into his ear. "We're going to have so much fun with you."

"Fun! Yes, love fun," said the Doctor. "Brilliant, fun. What're we going to do? Play-dough? Tiddly-winks? Ooh, how about a see-saw? Those are fun!"

But it seemed his rambling was not having the intended effect on the vampires, as they had begun to edge closer to him, and poke and prod him, as if measuring him up for the upcoming feast that — they now knew — was assured.

"And I have other knowledge, as well!" Ed offered. "I constructed those restraints, see? I have access to all sorts of alien technology, things that can keep him trapped and contained far better than ropes and metal bars. Make me one of you, and I promise, you won't regret it! Not for a single moment!"

Razor's proud smile grew, as he considered the possibilities. As he turned them over in his mind. The Doctor didn't like that gleam in his eyes. He didn't like the way that Razor turned to him and licked his lips in anticipation.

"Oh, I think the Time Lord will be far more fun than we'd ever imagined," he growled. He spun around, and pointed at the two vampires who'd brought the human over. "You two. Sire the poor pathetic little human weakling. Let him join us once again."

The two vampires growled, and then leapt on the human, digging their fangs into his neck, draining him of his soul as they killed him, transformed him into one of them. The Doctor struggled to get free and help Ed, even if he knew he could do nothing. By tomorrow night, the Doctor knew, those eyes would be open once more — but without that spark of humanity, without any bit of compassion or empathy.

Ed took one more pained gasp, and then died.

"You didn't have to do that," the Doctor said, as the vampires gathered up Ed's body, preparing it for its time of reawakening.

Razor turned to face the Doctor, once more. A smile on his lips. "I wouldn't worry about the fates of others," he said. "I'd worry about your own fate." He stalked towards the Doctor, eyes fixed on the Time Lord buffet in front of him.

"Well, see, thing is, if all you're relying on is a machine, I'm quite good with machines," the Doctor replied. "Might backfire, you know. This clever plan of yours."

Razor ignored him. He came right up to the Doctor, the reek of human blood in his breath. "There is a prophecy, Time Lord," said Razor. "A prophecy that, in the dawn of the new millennium, the world will change, the balance will shift. For Death is coming — death for all — and when it does, a new age will begin. So many of us fled from that prophecy, believing it foretold the end of evil, the death of the dark creatures lurking in the night. But where some see failure, I see greatness. Opportunity."

The Doctor blew a breath out of his cheeks. "Never much liked prophecies," he confessed. "Bit daft to someone who's seen the future first hand. Half the time, the prophecies aren't true at all!"

"But you see, death _is_ coming," Razor told him. "Death for all the humans. A new age, a new world — one not made of humans, but of vampires and demons, of death and darkness. A new empire, all ushered in by one person. Do you know who that person is? Can you guess what we're going to do?"

The Doctor swallowed. Oh, yes. He knew far, far too well.

Razor grinned at the Doctor. "Hello, my Bringer of Death."

* * *

The first person to greet Buffy after she returned to the States was Faith. Standing in the front lobby of the Slayer Institution, a small smile on her face.

"So," said Faith, "you still Buffy Summers? Or are you legally a Tyler, yet?"

Buffy didn't let the jibe get to her. She gave a small shrug, dropping into a nearby chair. "Rose is a very nice person."

"Who just so happens to be exactly the same age as your sister," Faith pointed out. "You shouted at Rose for going out with boys that 'aren't good enough for her', yet? Or is that just a Dawn-thing?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "It's not my fault Dawn keeps getting seduced by creatures of pure evil."

"Most of my boyfriends are perfectly nice humans, thank you very much," Dawn retorted, coming out into the front lobby. "Todd was great."

"He worked for the IRS!" Buffy snapped. "I told you. A creature of pure evil."

Dawn gave Buffy a dark stare.

"I am _not_ overprotective!" Buffy insisted. "Ask Jackie Tyler. She loves me."

"Let me guess," said Dawn. "You beat up Rose's boyfriends, too?"

"No!" Buffy said. She hesitated. "Okay, once."

Dawn crossed her arms.

"The Tylers are very nice people," Buffy insisted. "I like them. I mean, they're just so… _normal_." She gave a tired smile. "I went up against this Polkisentzo demon, the other day, and when I dropped by, tired and sore, my hair and clothes a mess and having obviously been in a fight, Jackie gave me a cup of tea and explained to me how much money I could get if I filed a sexual harassment claim against my boss." She grinned a little wider. "I wonder which office she thinks I work in."

Dawn slumped against the back wall. "You haven't even told them you're the Slayer?!"

Buffy didn't answer. She had thought about it, especially all those times when Buffy was pretty sure Rose was on the verge of working it out for herself, but… Buffy liked them being ordinary. She liked them thinking that there was just their tiny little world, just normal life, just work and friends and fun without any of the monsters or craziness.

An ordinary life. The kind Buffy had always wanted. But could never have.

Someday, Buffy knew, sweet, cute, innocent little Rose Tyler would have to go out into space, and battle monsters herself. Someday, that little girl would meet the Doctor, be forced to stop being ordinary, and grow up.

But until then…

Buffy's train of thought was cut off, as Kennedy rushed into the room, her breath coming fast, her body tense and ready for anything.

"Willow," she gasped.

Buffy, Dawn, and Faith all looked at one another, then raced after Kennedy.

They found Willow lying on the floor, convulsing, Xander desperately trying to hold her down so that she didn't hurt herself. She was muttering words, coming out from her lips as if they were being forced.

"Tides changing," she said. "World shifting. History altering. Manipulation. Deceit. The contract is dissolving, and we… we…! We can't see. We are blind! She has blinded us! She will blind us!"

"What's going on?" Buffy asked, trying to help Xander.

"Willow told us something about Death coming, and then she just collapsed!" Xander said. "I've called the medical wing, they should be here any second."

"Death is coming!" Willow shouted. "It's coming! Death for all!"

Buffy felt a shiver run down her spine.

Then Willow stilled, her eyes locked on Buffy. Eyes that still seemed so very far away. Eyes that didn't seem to be Willow at all.

"No," she said, reaching out towards Buffy. "Not coming." She closed her eyes. "Death is here."

"Where?" Kennedy asked. "Where is it? What is it? What are we fighting?"

But Willow didn't pay Kennedy any attention. She opened her eyes into narrow slits, her focus fixed on Buffy, her hand squeezing Buffy's arm.

"You," she said. "Time conforms to you. Death is coming — death for all. And you will be the cause."

And then Willow passed out.


	3. August, 2004

**August, 2004**

Marianna Forlich stepped out of the government building that constituted her workplace, her briefcase tucked under an arm, already digging through her purse for her car keys.

"Dr. Marianna Forlich?"

Marianna turned, and smiled at the man who approached her. The tall man in the black business suit, youngish and quite handsome, in his own way.

"You must be Katherine's son," she said, extending a hand towards him. Her coworker had been talking non-stop the whole day about her amazing son who was going to be arriving that evening. "I've heard so much about you."

"And I you," the man said, not shaking Marianna's hand. "I wondered if you could help me. I have a problem, and I hear you're the expert."

"I'll do my best," said Marianna. "What's your problem?"

"Vampires."

Marianna froze. The color fell from her face, and her hands shook a little. She turned away. "I don't do that, anymore."

"But you did," the man said. "Once, you knew everything about their biology. Everything about their minds. Once upon a time, you could even cure them."

"How do you know about that?" Marianna demanded.

The man's face twisted, fangs extending, eyes turning yellow, and he stepped towards her. Just as six others stepped out of the shadows, surrounding her, their hungry eyes glowing in anticipation.

And then they pounced, and Marianna knew no more.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Carolyn McConnell told the woman at her doorstep. "Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested."

"Actually, I'm from UNIT," the woman told her. "I'm here concerning an incident you were involved in, seven years ago. An incident involving the Doctor."

Carolyn paused. "You mean… the thing… with the vampires?"

The woman cleared her throat. "Since this is a confidential matter," the woman said, "I don't think we should speak about such things in public."

Carolyn opened her door, a little flustered. "Oh, right, yeah," she said. "Come in. James is just watching TV, but… I'm sure if it's that important…"

The woman entered the house, a smile gracing her features. She was younger looking, Carolyn observed. Attired in military uniform, her every feature rigid and her hair pulled back. Just the same way the military officers at UNIT tended to look and act.

Funny that Carolyn had never seen this one, before.

"Is it true," the woman said, once she'd closed the front door, "that you know how to make the compound referred to, in the files, as 'Vamp-Away'?"

Carolyn laughed. "Sure, I know how to do it," she said. "I just don't think I'm supposed to." She'd created it inside the TARDIS labs, and she was fairly certain that several of the chemical compounds she'd incorporated didn't exist on Earth. Or not yet, anyways.

"But in a case of national emergency…" the woman said. "If the entire world were at risk…"

Carolyn frowned. "Is something going on?"

The woman gave a feral grin, as fangs extended from her teeth, her eyes turned yellow, and she grabbed Carolyn by the arm. "Just taking precautions," she said, and bit down on Carolyn's neck.

* * *

"I'm dying, aren't I?" Joanna Harris asked the doctor who was examining her. "That's what happens to you when you're human. You get old and die."

Dr. Matford gave her a puzzled look when she mentioned being 'human', but was nice enough not to put in a call to the psych ward. Which was good for Joanna. She had enough problems to deal with.

"I don't believe that you're dying, Miss Harris," said Dr. Matford. "Your tests all appear to show that you're in perfect health. There is no physical reason for your recent fainting spells." He paused. "Perhaps… some psychological element…"

Joanna felt herself fuming. "Are you saying I'm making this up?" she demanded. "Or that I… _want_ to collapse in the middle of a public street, just because I think it's _fun_?"

"I think you should entertain the possibility that you're under stress," Dr. Matford replied.

"Of course I'm under stress!" said Joanna. "That's what happens when you repeatedly pass out for no discernible reason! You get _stressed_!"

And, as if doctors visits weren't bad enough, Joanna's day just kept getting worse and worse. Medical insurance issues, coworkers giving her advice that wound up being completely unhelpful, and then there was grocery shopping…

Ugh.

"Thanks Doctor," Joanna muttered, as she forked over the money to buy the food she now needed to survive. "Being human's just great, in case you asked."

Yep. Completely great. What with money issues, a wide range of emotions, having to deal with guilt again, being physically weak, aging, and… and… buying groceries!

She stepped out of the grocery store, her arms loaded down by shopping bags, trying to peer at her watch to see if she'd missed her bus.

"Joanna Harris?"

Joanna turned around. And froze, as she spotted the man behind her. No, not 'man'.

(Oh, it made sense, now. The dizzy spells, the loss of concentration, the random fainting. Way, way too much sense.)

The grocery bags crashed to the ground, as Joanna turned, and ran.

Footsteps behind her. Not just that one vampire's. Lots of footsteps. A group of them. Chasing her — of course they were! And they weren't about to let her go. Not with what she knew.

She raced forwards, and tried to think of where she could run to. UNIT, had to go to UNIT. Find… Carolyn, or Marianna, or Becky, or…

No. Don't be stupid. They were probably already dead.

And just as she turned a corner, she felt a sudden terrible spinning in her head. Her heart pounded, rapidly, her breath came short, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she passed out, completely. Again.

No!

Joanna staggered forwards, towards the street, just as a car pulled over. The driver rolled down his window.

"Get in!" he shouted.

Joanna didn't have to be told twice. She hurled herself towards the car, just managing to open the door and get inside before the vampires grabbed her. She smacked the door closed, crushing their hands, as the driver slammed his foot down on the accelerator and they escaped.

Joanna tried to keep herself conscious, as she glanced at the man who'd rescued her. A short guy with a black hat, and a black leather coat.

"Vampires, huh?" he said. "Not a very nice group to get chased by." His eyes flicked over to her. "Although I guess you already know that. Joanna Harris."

Joanna turned a sharp eye on him. Suddenly realizing that she'd trapped herself in a moving car with a complete stranger. "Who are you?"

"Call me Whistler," he said, with a smile. "Least, you can call me that as long as you're still conscious. What'd you do? Psychically link yourself to someone else, back when you were still a vampire?" He tilted his head to the side. "What's that process called, again? Oh, yeah! Bloodfasting. You got bloodfasted."

Joanna's breath became more gaspy, her world swaying in and out of focus. "How… how do you know…?" She paused, as a thought came to her. "The Doctor told you."

"Never met him, actually," Whistler replied. He adjusted his rear-view mirror, and frowned. Then looked over at Joanna. "The Doctor, huh? Now that's interesting."

Joanna saw dots dancing before her eyes. She opened her mouth to answer, but all that came out was, "Have… to… help…"

Then everything tumbled into blackness.

Whistler mused the situation over, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. "The Doctor…" he repeated. Then he flipped on his turn indicator, and changed course.

"Lucky for you," he said, "I've got an in with the one person who can help."

* * *

"The Balance," Buffy said, leaning against the table in the front of the room. Addressing her students. "Between good and evil. It's your reason for living. And your reason for dying. You'll fight to protect it, and you'll die because of it."

All eyes in the room were fixed on her. Eyes of young girls who needed to know that the world wasn't a nice place to live. That being the Slayer didn't mean beating up everyone in sight, demon, vampire, or human being.

(Except if they messed with Dawn.)

"Whenever there's a wave of death and destruction, piety and goodness increases," Buffy said. "Sunnydale had twelve cemeteries and the Hellmouth. But it also had forty-three churches."

She rose, and walked to the other side of the table. "That's a lesson for you," she said. "You'll spend your whole life battling evil. Your goal will be to eradicate it. Make the world safe." She fixed her students with a steady stare. "Except you'll never make the world safe. As long as there are forces of good, there will be forces of darkness."

She noticed two girls not paying attention, giggling with one another in the back of the room, and raced forwards, slamming her hands down on their desks, snapping their attention back to her.

"You can slay vampires," she said, "defeat your enemies. But you can't defeat evil, entirely. Ever."

One of the girls, towards the front, tentatively raised her hand.

Buffy turned, and pointed at her. "Yeah."

The girl fidgeted. "Couldn't we… get around this balance thing? If someone finds a way to, I don't know, kill off all the vampires or something…"

"And if we destroyed the vampires, we'd get something else, instead," said Buffy, walking back to the front of the room. "Demons. Daleks. You name it. Evil's always out there. Always trying to take us down. It's our job to make sure it doesn't succeed."

Faith appeared in the doorway of the classroom, catching Buffy's eye. And there was something in Faith's expression that made Buffy… uneasy. Like Faith was trying way too hard to act cool and composed, and very obviously failing.

And considering what it took to shake Faith up…

Buffy excused her class, then waited as the students all left the room. Faith shoved her hands into her pockets, strolling over to Buffy.

"Giving another one of your inspirational speeches, huh, B?" she asked.

"No use sugar-coating the truth," said Buffy. She turned on Faith. "What's up?"

Faith looked away, giving an uncomfortable shrug. "Death's coming," she said. "And it just found our school."


	4. Chapter 4

"They're not dead," Buffy assured Faith, as they stormed through the halls of the Slayer Institution. "Can't be."

"Either dead, or playing serious hooky," said Faith.

Buffy burst into Dawn's office, where everyone else had already gathered. Dawn automatically handed Buffy a folder of maps and research.

"Last known locations," Dawn explained. "Lists of important information. Compilations of accounts from various different members of staff, and everything we have about the girls that have gone missing."

Buffy took the folder, and leafed through it. Then dropped the folder onto the ground, and turned to the others. "So the point of this is… fifteen girls are missing."

Dawn's expression fell with the dropped papers, her professionalism sliding into disappointment. But she covered it well.

"For at least a day," Xander confirmed. "No one's seen them. Not at classes. Not in the dorms. Not anywhere."

Buffy nodded. "Then we find them."

"Buffy," said Willow. "Death's coming. Remember? These girls, they're probably already…"

Buffy turned to Xander. "Xander. Arrange a search-party." She spun on her heel, then marched out of the room. "We're finding those girls. And we're making sure that whatever is threatening us, it's taken care of. Right away."

The door slammed shut, behind her.

Xander glanced over at Dawn, who was glaring down at her desk, her whole body tense. "Supposed to be my job," she muttered.

"You know," said Xander, "it's amazing how easy it is to confuse the names 'Dawn' and 'Xander' when you're really stressed out and…"

Dawn got up from her seat. "Don't bother," she said, walking towards the door. "Buffy never wants me involved if she thinks it's going to be dangerous."

* * *

"You know her?" Spike asked.

"Not personally," Angel confessed, analyzing the unconscious woman in front of them. "I've heard of her, though. Her name's Joanna Harris."

Spike gave a little chuckle. "Another Harris? Well, speak of the Xander. Small world."

Angel glanced back at Spike. "I doubt there's any relation. Joanna's over 900 years old."

Spike stubbed out his cigarette, suddenly interested. "Demon, then?"

"When I first heard about her, she was a vampire," Angel confessed. "Although that no longer seems to be the case."

Spike muttered something about bloody skinny-twerp Time Lords under his breath.

"That must be why Whistler brought her here," Angel said. "Because we know the Doctor." He stared at Joanna, concerned. "I wonder what's wrong with her."

"The bloodfasting," Joanna muttered.

Angel and Spike looked at one another. Then back at Joanna.

"Shouldn't work," she continued. "Human now. Psychic link would be too weak. He must be… in so much… pain…" She opened her eyes, and noticed her surroundings. Noticed Spike, no recognition in her eyes. Then noticed Angel. And jumped to her feet. "Oh, shit."

"She _would_ recognize you, mate," Spike grumbled.

Angel advanced towards Joanna, holding out his hands. "I'm not here to hurt you," he said. "Whistler brought you here. He said I could help."

"I don't want _your_ brand of help," Joanna spat, edging backwards. "I'd rather stay alive."

"No, really, I'm not going to hurt you," Angel repeated. "I've got a soul, now. Hurting you would only hurt me."

"Oh, and I _so_ trust in your sense of self-preservation!" said Joanna, putting a chair between herself and Angel. "The sadistic ones are always the first to get staked. Or have you figured that out, yet?" She paused, the anger falling away, just a hair, as she squinted at Angel. "What do you mean, you have a soul?"

"I met someone," Angel said. "Someone I think you've met, too. I killed his friend. So he tricked me. And gave me back my humanity."

Joanna's eyes widened, but she said nothing.

"I can help," Angel said. "But you have to tell me. Who are you bloodfasted to? Whose pain are you feeling?"

Joanna backed away, reaching for the nearest weapon-like object. Which happened to be… a staple-remover. "Oh, no," she said, wielding the staple-remover. "I don't know what… revenge fantasies you've been entertaining, but there is no way I'm telling you anything about…"

"Oh, bloody hell!" Spike groaned. "It's the Doctor, isn't it? _That's_ the psychic signal you're picking up."

* * *

"We've got a positive ID on Linda," crackled Willow's voice through the walkie-talkie. "Dead. Blood loss, neck snapped, lots of bruising. Autopsy should tell us more."

Buffy sighed, and held the walkie-talkie up to her mouth. "Got that," she said. She lowered her hand, and turned to Faith, beside her.

"Guess that makes twelve," Faith said.

"The last three could have survived," Buffy told her. She could see that Faith was really upset, even if she kept trying to make it seem as if she was fine. There was this weird shruggy thing Faith kept doing, like she couldn't get comfortable in her own skin.

"At least Linda wasn't torn apart like the last five," said Faith.

"We'll find out what happened," said Buffy. "I promise, Faith. Those girls were under our protection. We're going to make sure it never happens again."

"I just want to take out whatever did it," said Faith. She balled her hands into fists, and punched the air. "Give that monster what he deserves."

A rustle, then a clang from behind them. "Faith?" came a small voice.

Buffy and Faith turned, and found a disheveled, bloody, and foul-smelling young girl trying to climb out of a nearby dumpster. Her brown hair was strewn with red blood, nasty gashes appeared across her arms, and she cried out as she fell backwards, back into the dumpster. Faith rushed out and caught her, lifting her out of the dumpster and onto the ground.

"I've got you," said Faith, helping the girl. "You're okay, Arlene. B and I are here."

Arlene flicked her eyes across the alley. "Are they gone?" she whispered.

"Are who gone?" Buffy asked.

"The vampires," said Arlene.

Buffy and Faith looked at one another. Talk about anticlimactic! All this stuff about Death coming and Super-Big-Bads, and it was just a few vampires attacking Slayers who weren't fully trained? Some new vampire nest, Buffy was guessing, that had just moved into town. Maybe they called themselves "Death", or something. Wow, that would be a total letdown.

Arlene started crying, and Faith tried to calm her down. "They killed everyone else," she sobbed. "I watched them tear the other girls to pieces. I don't think any of them survived. I hid. That was the only way I got out alive. They… they were so fast! So strong! Linda even got one in the heart, but… it didn't stake, Faith! It didn't work!"

"Linda's first vamp," Faith explained to Buffy.

Buffy knew what that meant. It might as well be a rule. First time anyone tried to stake a vamp, she always wound up missing the heart. The newbies always thought the vampires were super-mythical or something, but trained veterans knew better.

"That's how it always feels, the first time," Faith coaxed Arlene. "You'll get better, don't worry. Pretty soon, vampires like that'll be a dawdle."

"You better get her back to the Institute," Buffy told Faith. "I'll keep an eye out for any more survivors." She raised the walkie-talkie to her mouth. "Buffy to search party. Located one survivor. Arlene. Apparently, this was a case of out-too-late, stuck around after dark, got ambushed by vamps."

"We weren't out too late!" Arlene protested. "It was lunch time."

"For vampires, it's always lunch time," Faith told her.

"No, I mean—" Arlene started.

A crackle from Xander on the walkie-talkie. "Um, Buffy? I've got the coroner, here, and he puts the time of death at around about noonish."

Buffy and Faith just stared at the walkie-talkie.

"That's what I said," Arlene told them. "It was lunch. We weren't expecting vampires or anything."

"So… unless there was some sort of freak eclipse, you're saying…" Faith started.

Arlene nodded. "The vampires attacked us in broad daylight."

* * *

"Why not?" Joanna demanded, turning on Angel, anger radiating through her eyes. "It's been tried before."

"But never successfully," Angel pointed out. "Everyone knows — it'd be suicide!"

Joanna looked Angel up and down, carefully. "You said he tricked you into giving you back your soul," she said. "Which means you tried to do this kind of thing yourself, didn't you? A hundred years ago. You thought you could be successful at it."

Angel looked away.

"I've been alive a long time," Joanna said. "I know. Every upstart vampire that meets the Doctor always thinks that _they'll_ be different. That _they'll_ be able to make it work. And every single time, they always lose."

"You really think that's what's happening here?" Angel asked.

"Well, you know what would happen if it worked," Joanna said. "It's a biological defense-mechanism against Time Lords. If some vampire could do it — actually do it — no Time Lord could escape."

"Not even the Doctor," Angel said.

"Not even the Doctor," Joanna agreed. "Like I said. No _Time Lord_ could stop it."

Angel raised an eyebrow at her. "You're about to point out that the two of us _aren't_ Time Lords."

Joanna crossed her arms, a proud smile on her face. "Bingo."

* * *

Buffy dropped the stack of autopsy reports onto her desk, and collapsed into the seat. "It's vampires," she told the others.

Willow, Xander, Dawn, and Faith all looked at one another, exchanging dubious glances.

"It can't be vampires," Xander told Buffy. "Vampires don't do sunlight."

"And yet, here we are," said Buffy, nudging the autopsy reports towards Xander. "Vampires. Sunlight. Lots of dead people."

"They could have been attacked in the shadows," Dawn offered. "Or indoors."

"Nope," said Faith. "Arlene told us it was broad daylight. But that doesn't mean they're vampires." She turned to Buffy. "Come on, B. You know vampires. They don't dig the sunlight deal. Whatever these blood-sucking demon things are, if they're running around during business hours, they're not vamps."

"I've seen vampires immune to sunlight before," said Buffy. "Vampires are a hybrid species. Half vampire, half human. If the vampire is from another planet besides Earth, they're sometimes immune to sunlight. I chased this one vampire, once. A Carflodashian Vampire, from the planet Carflodash. That one was immune to sunlight."

"No offense," said Xander, "but don't you think that if E.T. Vampire was planning an invasion, we'd at least have seen a flying saucer or a meteor or something?"

They all looked over at Dawn, who gave a pensive frown.

"Anything from Torchwood or UNIT?" Buffy asked.

"I couldn't get major details," said Dawn, "but… UNIT was attacked, a short time ago. Anyone who'd known anything about vampires was hunted down and killed. And as for Torchwood…" Dawn winced, "to quote Hartman, 'we know about the situation, and it's under our control.'"

"So… probably the same," Buffy said.

"Probably." Dawn glanced up at Buffy. "Other than that, no weird alien sightings. No lights in the sky, or UFOs, or anything."

"So either we've got super badass invading alien vampires," said Xander, "or we've got demons who want to pretend they're super badass invading alien vampires."

"Did Arlene tell you anything else about these mystery vamps?" Buffy asked Faith.

Faith shrugged. "They look like normal vamps," she said. "Arlene thought they were human until they went all wrinkly vampire faced. Other than the sunlight thing, it's all the stuff you'd expect from a newbie facing down an experienced vampire. Super fast, super strong, couldn't find the heart, that kind of thing."

"So other than sunlight, there's nothing special about them," said Buffy.

"Seems like," Faith agreed.

"Woah, woah, woah, wait a minute, hold the phone!" said Xander. "You guys are making a whole lot of assumptions, here."

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked.

"Look, what if — just, humor me, here — but what if Arlene was right," Xander said, "and these vampires were just as fast, just as strong, and just as unkillable as she described?"

"Xander, the first time a newbie goes out against a vampire, it's always like this," Buffy told him. "I thought the same thing, when I tried to stake my first vamp."

"Me too," said Faith.

"I'm just saying that you might want to investigate before you dismiss everything she says," Xander pointed out. "I mean, these vampire guys did infiltrate Torchwood and UNIT, right? That's not easy to do."

"Look, just think about it, a moment," Faith told him. "If every vamp was the way we thought vamps were when we were newbies, we'd all be dead, by now. In fact, everyone on Earth would probably be dead by now. Unstoppable vampires — they're just a myth. A legend. If they were real, it would—"

"Be Death," Buffy cut in, her voice very flat.

"Death is here," Willow said. "Remember?"

Buffy and Faith looked at one another. Buffy had a very, very bad feeling about this, all of a sudden.

"I think it's time for the professionals," she told Faith.

* * *

Xander looked up, as he noticed Dawn entering his office. She did not look happy. In fact, she looked pretty grim.

"I just got off the phone with Giles," she said. "Buffy wanted me to check in with the Coven."

Xander sighed. Yeah. 'Check in with the coven'. Right. Sometimes, Buffy's excuses to go off to England were seriously flimsy.

"I'm sure Buffy isn't trying to replace you," Xander said. "This whole Tyler thing — Buffy's just trying to find the Doctor. As soon as she does…"

"The Coven's gone."

Xander's head shot up. He stared at Dawn. "What?"

"One of the members of the Coven had gotten sired," said Dawn. "No one detected anything wrong. Next thing Giles knew, they were all dead."

"The _Coven_?" Xander checked. "I thought they could tell if a fly sneezed half a world away!"

"You were right, Xander," Dawn said. "There's something seriously bad going on. And Buffy's going out, looking for it. I mean, is she even…?"

"She took the Scythe," Xander assured Dawn. "She's ready for anything."

Dawn didn't look convinced.

"You're really worried about this," Xander noted.

"I've been collaborating with Torchwood, UNIT, the US Army, and the Coven for the last year and a half," Dawn said. "I _know_ these organizations. They're not idiots. Every single one of them should have been able to detect vampires the moment they arrived. But everywhere, it's the same thing. No one's able to find out about the vampires until it's too late."

Xander put aside the book he'd been using for research. "Isn't this something you should be telling Buffy?"

Dawn gave Xander a pointed look. "You know why I'm not."

Yeah, Xander knew why. What Buffy would do to Dawn, if she found out that there was something super-duper dangerous out there.

"She only sends you out of danger because she loves you, you know," he said.

"Yeah," Dawn replied. "Sacrifice herself cause she loves me. I get it." She gave a sad little shrug. "I just wish she'd figure out that… I love her, too."

* * *

"Okay, seriously," said Faith. "Next time, we're phoning the vampires ahead of time, and making an appointment."

Buffy glanced over at Faith, a small grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "Bored?"

"It's called 'Slaying', not 'Waiting Around Hoping Something Will Happen'," Faith insisted. She shoved her sword into the ground, so she could lean against the hilt. "At least when you and I did patrols, we were walking around."

"We'll give it another ten minutes," said Buffy. "Just in case they decide to…" She stopped, as she heard the rustle of a bush nearby. She spun around, brandishing the Scythe, to find…

"Arlene?" Faith asked.

Arlene shuffled, slightly. "I… thought you could use some help," she said. She scuffed her shoe against the ground. "And I thought maybe… the vampires would be after me. Specifically. Because I got away."

"Arlene," said Buffy, lowering the Scythe. "Get out of here. This isn't a fight for a newbie."

"But I thought—" Arlene started.

She never finished.

Her eyes went wide, her face pale, and she fell over, dead, a knife poking out of her back.

The vampire behind her — a large blond guy, with a torn biker jacket and tattoos along his biceps — gave Buffy a cruel, twisted smile. "Hello, Slayers."

Buffy glanced around, realizing that the biker-guy and two other vampires had just surrounded her and Faith. Snuck up on them.

And Buffy wasn't usually sneak-uppable.

The trio of vampires examined Buffy and Faith with mild curiosity, grins on their faces, death in their eyes. The biker guy in front swept a blond fringe from his eyes, the sun sparkling atop his head.

Buffy brandished her Scythe, while Faith plucked her sword out of the ground.

"We heard you were looking for us," said the blond vampire. He glanced down at Arlene's dead body. "Sorry we kept you waiting."

Buffy and Faith exchanged a look. A look that was a strategy. Then Buffy stepped forwards, Scythe raised, and swung out at the blond one, while Faith flipped back and hacked at the other two.

The edge of the Scythe glistened in the sunlight, the power stretching through her body as it traced the air. The blond vamp didn't move, didn't seem to mind at all, just laughed, as the blade sliced through his head.

The severed head popped into dust as it hit the ground.

Behind Buffy, two more heads rolled across the ground, then burst into piles of dust, as Faith finished off her vampires.

"That was easy," said Buffy, turning back to Faith. "I thought they'd be…"

She stopped, as she felt Faith's hand grab her shoulder. A hand that trembled, a little. A hand that turned Buffy around, to look behind her, at the vampire she'd just decapitated. And as Buffy stared, she saw…

A head growing back in place on the still-standing biker-guy body, swelling to its proper size and then settling down where the previous one had been.

"What the…?" Buffy said.

The blond vampire laughed again, his fellow vampires — damn, all of them whole again — all joining in. Then, faster than Buffy could even process, her and Faith's weapons were out of their hands, and they were both being restrained by the two groupee vamps.

"C'we kill 'em, now, Joe?" asked one of the groupees. "You know what they say about Slayer blood."

The Joe-guy's eyes gleamed. "Question is, who do we kill first?" he wondered. "Such a hard choice."

Then he rested his eyes on Buffy, and he decided. Reached out for her.

Buffy jerked one arm away from the vampire restraining her, then used her other, still restrained hand to flip him over her head, crashing him into Joe. She somersaulted over the collided vampires, getting up off the ground, and snatched back her Scythe.

Faith, meanwhile, had managed to elbow the vamp behind her in the stomach, then punch it in the nose, twisting around and trying to stake it through the heart.

Except… it didn't stake.

A flash of movement out of the corner of Buffy's eye, and she ducked to avoid the blow. Faith swung out at the vamp nearby with her sword, realizing — too late — what she was aiming at. A live wire.

Electricity burned through Faith's veins, forcing a scream from her throat, as she dropped the sword and fell to the ground.

The sword clattered nearby.

Buffy jumped in front of the unconscious Faith, brandishing the Scythe. Even if she knew it'd do no good.

"Funny," said Joe, "how you Slayers never seem to realize when you're in way over your heads."

Buffy laughed. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself..."

A sudden flare of heat erupted from the handle of the Scythe, and Buffy dropped it to the ground. Looked up, to find a vampire holding a gadget containing a series of lenses, which focused the sunlight to catch exactly right on the Scythe. Heat it up so it was unbearable. Buffy tried to grab the Scythe up, again, with her hand buried in the sleeve of her shirt, but the biker guy had already kicked it out of reach.

The vampires all looked at one another, their grins widening. Then turned back to the two Slayers. And went in for the kill.

Buffy lashed out. Used every trick she'd been taught. Everything she'd ever known or learned. But they knew her moves better than she did. Knew her actions, predicted her attacks, always managed to be exactly where she didn't expect.

"The Slayer," said Joe, as he managed to slam Buffy back against a brick wall. "Trained to fight on instinct."

Buffy ducked down to avoid the vamp's next punch, but was met with a kick from another vampire, winding her.

"But what happens," said Joe, "when your instincts are wrong?"

And with a smile, he reached behind him and caught up the approaching Faith — who'd regained consciousness, and tried to launch a sneak attack. He dragged her forwards, his fingers twisted across her upper arm. And with a scream from Faith and a horrible shattering sound, he snapped the bone as if it were sandstone.

The vampires threw Faith and Buffy down onto the sidewalk, towering over their fallen prey.

"Tell your Slayers," they said, "that the Era of Humanity is at an end, and the Age of the Vampires has begun."

"Dream on," Faith gritted out.

"The Bringer of Death is here," said the vampires. "And he is our creator. The Bringer of Death is here, and every human shall die."

Buffy felt a shudder run through her body as she heard the name — _the Bringer of Death_.

Then the three vampires turned, and left, just as suddenly and unexpectedly as they'd arrived.


	5. Chapter 5

"It's not," Faith said, as they picked themselves up off the ground. She winced in pain, as she moved. "Tell me those vampires' leader isn't… actually… a…"

"It's not a Bringer," Buffy agreed. "Not like those… eyeless… black-robed, twisty-sworded…" Buffy shuddered, then amended, "Not like with the First. I mean — it can't be. You know that."

Faith nodded. "Those Bringers always _seemed_ like minion material. Not really cut out to be…" She hissed, as she felt something give in her ankle. "…head honcho."

Buffy tried to keep her own pain to herself, as she felt everything inside of her lurch and judder and creak in ways she thought it probably wasn't supposed to. As she tried to ignore the flair of fire running through her side and back, everywhere the vampires had struck her.

"Those vampires could have killed us in two seconds," Buffy said. "They wanted us alive. They wanted us to tell the others."

"About someone calling himself 'the Bringer'," said Faith.

"The Bringer _of Death_ ," Buffy corrected.

"Still got the word 'Bringer' in it," Faith said. She gave a grim laugh. "Guess this means they're not aliens."

"How so?"

"Well, they know about the Slayer," said Faith, "they know about the First, and they know about the Bringers. They've been around since at least 2003. Probably longer."

Damn. Faith was right.

"Whoever this leader of theirs is, he's smart," Faith continued. "Smart enough to name himself something that would scare the shit out of us. He knows how the Slayer's trained. He knows how we're going to fight. He knows when we're waiting for vampires and when we're not expecting them."

"He can use science and lenses to his advantage," Buffy muttered.

"This isn't an alien, Buffy," Faith said. "This is someone intelligent. Someone who knows about Slayers, intimately. Who knows the ins and outs of Torchwood, UNIT — everything. Someone who knows enough to use a name he knew would cause a panic back at our school."

Buffy hadn't even thought about the school. "All the students are going to flip if they hear about this," she said. "'Bringer of Death.' They'll think the First's come back, again. We can't tell them."

"Better they hear it from us," said Faith. She hissed in pain, as she eased herself away from the wall and tried to stumble forwards. "Those vamps are going to make sure that every single person in our school knows about this, one way or another. And if you and I aren't around to reassure them it's _not_ the First or the Bringers, we'll wind up defenseless."

"So what do you suggest we tell them, then?" Buffy asked.

"The truth," said Faith.

"Okay, great," said Buffy. "We just get on the loudspeaker and tell everyone that there's a group of super smart vampires around who are immune to sunlight and can't be staked or decapitated — led by someone calling himself the Bringer of Death (who isn't a Bringer, by the way) — and they're aiming for not just the complete destruction of the Slayer line, but the complete destruction of the world. Yeah. That's not going to start a panic at all."

Faith grunted. "Point taken."

She glanced down at the murdered body by their feet. Arlene. Such a young kid, the only survivor of the previous attack, and now she was dead.

"We'll fix this," Buffy promised. "Before anyone needs to know about the 'Bringer' thing."

"We better," said Faith.

* * *

Spike glanced back at the demon that had led him here. Just to make sure it hadn't been lying, or this wasn't some trick. "You sure?"

"Does it look like I want these creeps to wipe out the human race?" the demon snapped. "That's my food supply they're talking about destroying."

Spike gave the demon a very long, cold stare, then dropped the matter, and went inside the abandoned house.

If Spike hadn't been a vampire, he'd have gagged at the smell. It was the thick stench of death, of horror and blood and bodies. He tried the lights. Nothing. Probably smashed in, like everything else, here. Spike switched on a torch, and shone the light around.

Just like he'd thought.

Every single surface had been smashed through, plaster from the ceiling fallen in, fixtures ripped out of their sockets, shelving tossed aside.

"They knew it was hidden somewhere in here," the demon informed Spike. "They just didn't know where."

"Yeah, I can see that," Spike muttered. He stepped forwards, across fallen and smashed up furniture, torn-apart couches and fragments of books. Then into the next room, where he found…

The bodies.

"Mutilated," Spike said, examining them. He knelt down. "Tortured for information, looks like. Guess they didn't know anything."

"They weren't here when he hid it," the demon agreed. "The humans didn't even know anything was hidden."

"That Worthing kid knew," Spike pointed out. He turned on the demon. "Might have been able to tell us where it was, if you hadn't killed him."

"I was hungry!" the demon protested.

Spike turned away. He'd beat the demon up later. Right now, he had more important things to do.

"Any idea what it looks like?" he asked, skimming his flashlight along the floorboards. "I mean, is it a gem, or a charm, or a…?" Spike stopped, as his flashlight caught the corner of a bundle of newspapers. Except… there was something about them. Something drawing Spike towards them. As if… he knew… deep down inside…

"No idea," said the demon. "Just that it was really powerful, and the skinny guy in the trainers wanted to make sure it wound up in the right hands."

Spike picked up the bundle, examining the handwriting on the outside. The hastily scribbled words — for Angel the Vampire — and the hurried note underneath.

_"Angel—_

_In a bit of trouble. Not sure how bad it'll get. Wear this at all times, just in case._

_The Doctor."_

Spike felt a horrible sense of dread in the pit of his stomach, as he tore at the side of the package. Reached inside. Brought out the object.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Spike shouted.

* * *

Angel looked between the two. "Exactly the same."

"Damn right it is," said Spike, around a cigarette. He took it out from between his lips, and exhaled. "Could have told you that before."

Angel picked up the one they already had. "Except this one looks more beat up. Older." He turned to the one Spike had just found, in the apartment. Touched the two of them together, creating a huge spark.

Everyone in the room flinched back.

"So it's not just a copy," said Angel. "They're exactly the same. The same object. But this one…" raising up the object Spike had just found, "…is at a younger point in its own time stream."

Joanna sighed. "I hate time travel."

* * *

Buffy knew she was in for it the moment she walked into the Slayer Institute to discover the same exact message graffitied onto the walls. The same phrase, over and over again:

_The Bringer of Death is here. And every one of you shall die._

"Huh," said Faith, the moment she saw it. She crossed her arms. "Guess that not-telling thing didn't last too long."

Buffy turned, and began racing towards her office. "We've got to stop a panic," she said.

She turned three corners, darting as fast as she could go, and only paused in her run when she discovered the group of people standing just outside her office door. Glaring at her.

"Did you know about this?" Willow demanded.

Buffy and Faith looked at each other.

" _You_ were the one who wanted to keep it a secret," Faith reminded Buffy.

Everyone nearby gave irritated groans.

"Look, Buff, you know we're with you all the way," Xander put in. "But we really, really hate it when you keep secrets like this from us."

"I didn't want to cause a panic!" Buffy insisted.

"Yeah, because all the graffiti is definitely avoiding a panic," Dawn said. "Buffy, the whole school's in an uproar. There's no way you're going to get anything done. Ever."

"I'll talk to them," Buffy said. "They trust me."

"They trust you enough to stay somewhere safe," said Dawn. "Not enough to fight back."

Willow muttered something about them all coming down with a sudden case of 'moral objections' to getting themselves into danger.

Buffy gritted her teeth. She'd fought tooth and nail against that stupid section of the Slayer Constitution. The one that gave others a way to weasel out of things if they didn't feel like it. Just claim you were morally against an action, and suddenly, no more obligation to follow orders!

Buffy had known. An army wasn't a democracy. Couldn't be. Ever.

"We're never going to solve this," said Dawn.

"We will," Buffy corrected, "with information." She crossed her arms. "All of you. Go out and find every book you can on vampires, and start doing serious research. I want to know who the Bringer of Death is, what he's up to, and how he's going to destroy the human race. And make sure—"

That was when Dawn's cell phone rang.

Dawn picked it up, listened, then handed it over to Buffy. "Angel," she said.

Buffy grabbed the phone from Dawn, and held it against her ear. "Not a good time, Angel," she said.

"Not a good time for either of us," Angel agreed. "But trust me. You want to see this."

"See what?"

"Just… come down to LA," Angel said. "It's something you have to see in person."


	6. Chapter 6

Willow had been jittery ever since they'd landed in LA.

But that was only to be expected, Buffy figured. After all, this entire city had been moved to Hell and back, again. Willow's magical connection-to-the-Earth thing would be able to pick that up. She was probably channeling all kinds of massive negative energy, right now.

But throughout the cab ride to Angel's new offices, Willow seemed to be getting worse and worse. She kept glancing around, shifting uncomfortably, jumping in her seat for no apparent reason.

Then she doubled over.

Even the cab-driver was starting to notice, now. He glanced back at Willow and Buffy, in the backseat. "Want me to drive this thing to the hospital?"

Willow clutched at the back of the seat in front of her, her eyes closed, her teeth gritted. She was saying something, over and over, again. Repeating it like a mantra.

Buffy bent down to hear it better.

"Stop," Willow muttered. "Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop."

"Stop what?" Buffy asked.

Willow shot her head up, and screamed, "Stop the car!"

The cab driver swung over to the side of the road, and Willow lurched out of the cab, stumbling onto the pavement. Buffy jumped out, after her friend.

"Hey!" shouted the cabby. "You've gotta pay the fair!"

"We'll be back, promise!" Buffy said. "Two seconds."

Whatever the cabby shouted back to her was lost to Buffy, as Willow cried out and stumbled forwards, running down an alleyway that Buffy wasn't completely sure was safe.

"Help!" Willow was crying out. "Can't you feel it? We have to help!"

"Willow," Buffy said, catching her shoulders and trying to calm her. "I'm sorry about this, but please. Come with me to Angel's. I need you."

Willow turned, grabbing Buffy's arms and staring into her eyes. There was a horrified pain etched on Willow's face, a devastation sunk into her corneas.

"Can't you feel it?" Willow asked. "It's strong. So strong. The screaming. The terror. The loss."

She tore herself away and kept running, her every step crazed but determined, her eyes closed in concentration.

"The emotions," Willow continued, as Buffy chased after her. "They're bleeding into the ground. Someone needs our help, Buffy. They're… they're scared. So scared!"

Buffy faltered, as she began to feel… something… too. Something on the edges of her senses. Something that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Something that seemed to echo through the ground.

Either Willow was picking up the epicenter of the LA-being-transported-to-Hell thing, or… she was picking up something else, entirely.

"No," Willow corrected, gasping out the words, now, her determination even more focused. "Not just scared. Panicked. Desperate. _Terrified_. It's like…" she stumbled over the side of the pavement, nearly fell, but caught herself, and darted towards another back alley. "…like a mother, who's lost her child, or… or…"

She stopped, as she turned a corner. Her hand against the wall of the nearby building. Her eyes opened, fixed on the spot just in front of her.

Buffy came up beside her. And saw.

"Or a TARDIS," Buffy amended, "who's lost her Time Lord."

* * *

Buffy had heard that there'd been some great big final battle in LA. That basically everyone in Angel's investigation team had died. But she hadn't expected Angel's new office to feel so… empty.

Or to encounter the completely unfamiliar short, dark-haired woman, standing outside, pacing the hallway with increasing nervousness.

The moment the woman spotted Buffy, she froze. Her eyes went wide. Then she turned, and ran inside.

Buffy looked at Willow. Willow looked back at Buffy.

"Vampire?" Willow guessed.

"Slayer senses say no," Buffy replied.

They opened the door, and went inside.

There, they found the woman facing down Angel, her eyes angry, her face full of fire.

"—never said anything about the Slayer getting involved!" she shouted. "That wasn't part of the deal."

"Actually," Buffy said, stepping forwards and putting on her best non-threatening smile, "I'm the good kind of Slayer." She extended her hand. "Buffy Summers."

The woman turned and eyed Buffy, warily. She didn't take the hand. "Joanna Harris."

"You'll have to excuse Joanna," Angel apologized. "A thousand years of training takes a long time to wear off."

"Joanna Harris," Buffy mused. She thought that named sounded familiar. Like something she'd heard, a long time ago. She just couldn't put her finger on when or where she'd heard it.

Joanna's expression was cold, bitter. She turned back to Angel. "I told you I wanted him _alive_ ," she hissed. "Bringing in someone that's trained specifically to kill non-human life forms wasn't what I had in mind."

"Buffy knows the Doctor," Angel told Joanna. "A lot better than me, and possibly even better than you. She's his friend. Trust me, with Buffy on board, we'll find him."

Oh, that was where Buffy had heard the name before! It was from Jack, way back when she'd first met the Doctor, about 6 years ago.

 _There's this woman you can talk to, in San Francisco_ , Jack had said. _Joanna Harris. She was a vampire for centuries until she met the Doctor. She's now your average out-in-the-sunlight, vegetable-eating human being, working in cancer research._

Wait a minute. What had Angel just said?

"What do you mean, find the Doctor?" asked Buffy. "You mean that whatever mega-trouble he's gotten himself into, this time, no one actually knows where he is?"

"That seems to be the case," said Angel.

"We saw his TARDIS earlier," Willow put in. "I could hear her screaming."

"We know," said Joanna.

"I don't know how long the TARDIS has been here, now," said Angel. "I first noticed it a few weeks ago. I assumed, what with it being the Doctor, that he had everything under control. Then Joanna arrived, and I realized we were in serious trouble. But it wasn't until a… friend of mine dropped this off that we knew we were doomed." Angel tossed a newspaper-wrapped package at Buffy.

She caught it. The package looked like it'd been wrapped in a hurry. The words: "For Angel the Vampire" scrawled across the top. The side of the wrappings looked like the package had already been opened, and Buffy reached inside, and pulled out…

"Oh, shit," said Buffy.

For there, in her hand, was a clear round gemstone, about the size of Buffy's palm, with silver metallic woven decoration around its edges. An amulet that hung on a long, golden chain. No. Not _an_ amulet.

 _The_ Amulet.

The very one that had killed Spike, back in the Final Battle of the Hellmouth. Burned him to death, as he wore it. The very one that had defeated the First, back in 2003, closed the Hellmouth, and turned the entire city of Sunnydale into a giant crater.

"How'd you get this back?" Buffy asked Angel.

"I didn't," said Angel. He hesitated. "I mean, I did, but not… I mean…"

Buffy gave Angel a pointed look. "All right, what's the big secret you're keeping from me?"

Angel looked nervous, but Joanna cut in before he could speak up.

"It's only a secret if you don't read the note!" said Joanna, handing Buffy back the newspaper packaging that she'd dropped on the floor.

Buffy examined it, a little closer, and discovered that — sure enough, scrawled at the bottom, in blue felt tip marker, was the following message:

_"Angel—_

_In a bit of trouble. Not sure how bad it'll get. Wear this at all times, just in case._

_The Doctor."_

Buffy stared at the message. Not sure what to say.

"Like I said," Angel told her. "Far worse than we thought."

Buffy's mind raced, as she realized the implications. That the Doctor was somehow involved with these unbeatable vampires. That the Doctor must have tried to stop them, gotten caught, and was now being used as a source of information.

Willow leaned over Buffy's shoulder, peering at the Amulet. "But… how could the Doctor have possibly gotten his hands on this thing?" she asked. "It was buried in a crater back in 2003!"

Angel shifted, nervously.

"He's the Doctor," said Buffy, with a shrug.

She knew that explained everything.

Buffy then looked up at Angel. "You can't wear this," she said, shaking the Amulet at him. "You know what it'll do to you if it activates. You know what it did to Spike!"

"I have to," Angel told her. "Buffy, the worst case scenario has already begun. If we don't fight back, everyone's going to die."

"There's got to be another way!" Buffy insisted. "I'll find another way! I lost Spike; I'm not losing you, too."

"Wait. She doesn't know?" Joanna asked Angel. " _Any_ of it?"

A horribly guilty look came across Angel's face. He turned to Willow and Buffy, who were both staring at him with looks that demanded an explanation.

He sighed.

"My office," he said, waving a hand for them to follow him, as he opened the door. "You'll need to be sitting down for this."


	7. Chapter 7

After a brief private word between Angel and Joanna, everyone gathered inside Angel's office. Joanna standing beside Angel's chair, Buffy and Willow seated opposite him in front of his desk.

"It's my fault," Angel began, his hands folded on the desk. "As far as we can tell. Based on the dates on the newspaper he used, the Doctor arrived here about a month and a half ago."

Oh. Of course.

"He noticed LA wasn't in the right dimension," Buffy realized, "and came to help."

And, because it was the Doctor, he missed the date.

"I probably should have known he'd show up, eventually," Angel said. "Joanna's pointed that out to me, many times. And I probably should have guessed what would happen to him, the moment he landed."

Buffy leaned in closer to Angel. "Angel. What happened to him?"

"LA's one of the biggest gathering spots for transformed vampires," Joanna said. "Most Doctor-tricked ex-vampires wind up here. All plotting their revenge against the man that made them human. Everyone knows that."

Buffy's jaw tensed, as she looked back over at Angel.

"Like I said," Angel told her. "I should have expected it."

"They knew the Doctor would show up to help you," Willow said, "so they waited for him? Set a trap?"

Angel nodded.

"But… why didn't they just kill him once they'd found him?" Willow asked. "Get their revenge?"

"I know why," Buffy said. She could feel her heart sinking, as she worked it out. "They struck a deal. Like Ford did, with Spike's gang, back in Sunnydale. Hand the Doctor over in exchange for getting sired again. And you can guess the results."

"Massacre," Angel confirmed.

"Killed every single human, and took the Doctor for themselves," Joanna added.

Willow's eyes widened, as she worked out why the vampires would want the Doctor. "The Doctor's seen every single Slayer die," she said. "He knows every single weak-point of the Slayer. If the vampires wanted to get rid of the Slayer Institution, they'd just have to torture the answers out of him. That's why the vampires know, now."

Buffy shook her head. "No," she said. She felt her fists clench on the tabletop. "No! He'd never tell them. If they'd been acting on the Doctor's information, they would have gotten all our weak-points wrong. He would have tricked them!"

Joanna glanced back at Angel. "Wait a second. She's both a vampire Slayer and the Doctor's friend, and she doesn't know about the defense mechanisms?"

"Defense mechanisms?" Buffy asked.

"The Vampires and the Time Lords were ancestral enemies," Joanna told her. "They fought a war way back in ancient history, which wiped out the Great Vampires completely. And during that war, both sides developed biological defense mechanisms."

"Regeneration," Buffy remembered. "It's like super-sunlight to vampires. It destroys them entirely."

"That's a Time Lord defense mechanism," Angel said. "Against vampires. What you're seeing, now, is… the opposite."

Buffy felt a chill run down her spine. "What do you mean?"

"These unbeatable vampires," said Angel. "Do you know what they are?"

Buffy and Willow shook their heads.

"They're normal vampires," Angel explained. "Completely normal, ordinary vampires. The kind you've fought for the last eight years. The only difference is their diet."

The word stuck in Buffy's throat. "Diet…"

"The digestion of Time Lord blood," Joanna confirmed. "The ultimate vampiric biological defense mechanism. Drink enough Time Lord blood over a long enough period of time, and… well, you can see the effects for yourself. Invincible. Invulnerable. Intelligent. Incredibly strong. Unimaginably fast. Immune to sunlight. Everything."

Buffy felt her world spinning around her. Willow put a comforting hand on Buffy's shoulder, but it didn't help. Buffy's mind was fixated on that one point. That one thing.

"The Doctor…" she swallowed. "Is he…? Did they…?"

"He's still alive," Joanna said. "They'd be stupid to kill him. The blood's effects are cumulative. The longer you drink it, the faster, more intelligent, more invulnerable you are." She shrugged. "Besides. If they caused a regeneration, they'd be signing their own death warrants, and they know it. I'm guessing they're trying to convert the Doctor into their own personal blood farm."

Buffy stopped breathing.

"It's the vampiric dream," Angel explained. "Every vampire's thought about it. Capture a Time Lord, drain him of enough blood that he couldn't stand upright — every day, without fail, for exactly the right period of time — and you'll become immortal. Then you can do whatever you want, and never have to worry about getting staked for it."

Angel brought out a book from his desk, and laid it in front of Buffy and Willow. A paperback, featuring a rather gruesome cartoon on the cover, with the title, "101 Ways To Collect Time Lord Blood; an easy, step-by-step guide to using the last Time Lord as your own, personal blood farm!"

"A best-seller in the demon community," Angel said. "And not the only one of its kind. There have been books like this dating back farther than you could imagine."

"I worked as a librarian a few centuries ago," Joanna said. "I've seen them all."

Buffy ventured to pick up the book from the table, and flip through its pages. There, she discovered a comprehensive manual explaining, "How to capture your Time Lord", "How to make sure your Time Lord doesn't escape", "How to determine how much blood is too much blood", "Why you should never directly bite your Time Lord", "Can I breed my Time Lord to increase my blood supply?" and on and on and on.

A page by page instruction manual, Buffy realized, on how to torture the man she loved more than anything.

"If there've been books written about this forever," Willow said, "then why hasn't this kind of thing happened before?"

Joanna snatched the book out of Buffy's hands. "Because of this," she said, opening the book to the inside front cover, and displaying it for Buffy and Willow to read.

There, printed in large letters, was the following disclaimer:

  
_WARNING!_

_If you actually employ any of the methods or strategies outlined in this book, there is a 100% chance that the Time Lord in question will kill you. Or worse. Please don't ask us what 'worse' means — you don't want to know. Just remember — if you die, you're lucky._

_On the other hand, if you use this book, at least your death won't be boring!_

"Even I knew that, when I was a vampire," said Joanna. "Complete invulnerability is nothing to someone who can travel through time."

Buffy looked up at Joanna, a dark, stormy look in her eyes. "You're human," she observed. "That means you still did it. You drank his blood."

"I thought I was saving his life," Joanna retorted.

"By killing him," said Buffy.

"He told me to!" Joanna insisted. "He pleaded with me, begged me to sire him, said he was dying and I was his only hope. Thirty seconds later, the Doctor was walking around, completely fine, and I was human, again. A trick right from the start!" She folded her arms. "If I didn't like the man so much, I'd hate him for that."

Buffy gave Joanna a skeptical look.

It was Willow who asked the question that Buffy was thinking. "You spent centuries without a soul. The Doctor tricked you into becoming human again. Why do you want to help him?"

Joanna looked away, an expression of raw pain on her face. "He could have killed me," she said. " _Should_ have killed me. I see that, now that I'm human. But instead… he saved my life." She shrugged. "He tricked me. Threatened me. Moralized to no end at me. But he still saved my life. And I won't forget that."

"Joanna only agreed to tell me what was happening," Angel assured Buffy, "on the condition that I promised not to harm the Doctor in any way. She might be an ex-vampire, but she's on our side."

"The situation unfolding with the vampires, right now, is worse than you could possibly imagine," Joanna told Buffy, trying to steer them back onto the main topic. "Worse than anyone could possibly imagine. These vampires who have the Doctor — they've infiltrated UNIT. They killed off any and all vampire experts. And, when they broke in, they looked through the files. And discovered… something else."

"What else?" Buffy demanded.

Joanna took a deep breath. "When I first met the Doctor, he gave my vampire coven an ultimatum," she said. "Either stop killing humans and come up with an artificially developed food-substitute, or he'd destroy us. I came up with a food substitute." She sighed. "It just wasn't the food substitute the Doctor wanted."

"She created artificial humans," Angel told Buffy. "Test-tube grown people. Easy to create. Lots of blood. And they don't fight back."

"I was trying to cut out all higher brain functions," Joanna explained. "I was trying to create non-sentient animals who happened to have human blood. I just… failed." She met Buffy's eyes with her own. "The Doctor verified. They're humans. Just like you or me. But they don't talk. They don't fight back. And they're a perfect artificial food source for vampires."

Buffy's jaw dropped open.

"I knew I should have destroyed them," Joanna said. "I knew they were dangerous. But the Doctor insisted that they were living, breathing people, and I had to treat them as such. UNIT's got them, now."

"But UNIT's been infiltrated," Willow said.

"We know," said Angel. "As far as we can tell, the vampires know that Joanna's developed something they can use. But they don't know what it is. They're after her, because they want to know what she created and where it's hidden."

"And they _can't_ know," Joanna insisted. "They can _never_ know. No matter what! Or they'll have no reason to keep humanity alive. They'll kill every single human being on the planet."

"Death is coming," Willow breathed. "Death for all."

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut. "No," she insisted. She pushed her chair back. "No, it doesn't make sense! None of this makes sense! Yes, the Doctor knows UNIT. Yes, the Doctor knows about the Slayer. But he'd never tell any of this stuff to the vampires! Even under torture, he'd never compromise the human race!"

Angel and Joanna started going on about how vampires drinking Time Lord blood must increase their intelligence level, but Willow had gone quiet. Very quiet. And very still.

"It makes perfect sense," she whispered.

They all turned to Willow.

Willow's hands clutched the arms of her chair a little tighter, as she stared — anywhere that wasn't Buffy. Her voice very quiet. Her tone the echo of empty hopelessness.

" _The Doctor_ knows how to infiltrate UNIT," said Willow. "He knows all the people in UNIT that might pose a threat. He knows about Joanna. He knows about the Slayer. And—" Willow ventured a glance over at Buffy. "—in your red notebook, you wrote down that, in the future, vampires would call the Doctor the 'Bringer of…' Something."

"Will…" Buffy said.

"Buffy, you've got to face it!" said Willow. " _He's_ the Bringer of Death. He's their leader! Whatever blood-drinking thing they were trying to do, they screwed it up, and sired him. Now he's taking down humanity, and there's nothing we can do to stop it!"

Buffy gave a small laugh. "Will…"

"You know… that might explain a lot," Angel put in. He glanced over at Joanna. "You've heard the TARDIS. The ship is panicking, as if it's lost contact with the Doctor entirely. And your own psychic episodes stopped shortly after you arrived here."

"The moment he gets sired, the Doctor becomes the one with all the power, not them!" Joanna insisted. "They'd never do it. They'd never… voluntarily…" Her face went pale.

"But if it was an accident," Willow put in.

Joanna said nothing. She braced herself against the wall, so she wouldn't fall over.

Buffy shook her head, an amused smile on her face. "He's not a vampire."

Everyone looked at Buffy.

"Buffy, I'm sorry," said Willow, "but you have to accept…"

"No, seriously," said Buffy, leaning back in her chair, crossing her arms. "He's not a vampire. He's not evil. He's not possessed. If he's still alive, he's still on our side. I know it. For a fact."

Everyone looked at everyone else.

"How?" Joanna asked.

Buffy shrugged. "Because it didn't happen this way, the last time," she said.

From the looks on the others' faces, Buffy knew she'd need to go into more detail than that. But she honestly didn't want to get into a long, drawn-out explanation of her experience, last year. That trip she'd taken, when she'd been facing down the First, into an alternate reality. A reality in which the Doctor had turned evil.

"Trust me," said Buffy, instead, "the moment the Doctor turns evil, you'll know. Because he'll completely annihilate Torchwood — starting with Torchwood London. Then he'll use time travel to destroy the Slayer way in the past, before it was ever even created. And then he'll destroy the world. And if we're lucky, he'll stop there."

Once more, six eyes were fixed on Buffy.

"And if we're not?" Angel asked.

"It was a great universe while it lasted," said Buffy.

For a moment, no one said anything. Everyone in Angel's office froze, their minds all thinking over the same possibility. Understanding all the implications of what Buffy had just said.

"Do you think the vampires know what'll happen, if they sire him?" Angel asked Joanna.

"I didn't," said Joanna, "and I was bloodfasted to him." She shook her head. "But… it wouldn't come to that, anyways! Those vampires are smart enough to keep him confined for a month and a half — they'd never take the risk of letting him regenerate. They're not even biting him!"

Buffy raised her eyebrows.

"One bite from a vampire, and a Time Lord can trigger the regeneration process," Angel explained. "They're draining him some other way."

"My point is, these vampires aren't idiots," said Joanna. "They'd never sire him. Because they'd never give him the ability to gain the upper hand."

Angel stared at the Amulet, lying on his office desk. "'Just in case', he said."

And Buffy realized that 'just in case' might be reserved for a way, way worse scenario than she'd thought.

"Besides!" added Joanna. "That's what the regeneration is for. The defense mechanism to counter the vampire's defense mechanism. Even if the biting doesn't trigger the regeneration, draining him of all his blood will."

"But he's not going to have to regenerate," said Buffy. "Because we're going to rescue him. Where is he?"

Angel's shoulders slumped. "We don't know."

"No one knows," said Joanna. "The only lead we had was this Worthing kid, and he was eaten by a demon a few days ago."

"But… we can follow the vampires that have drunk the Doctor's blood!" Buffy proposed. "Figure out where they all are."

"That's… the other thing," Angel said. "The vampires have been… selling the Doctor's blood."

Buffy stared.

"It's a luxury item," Joanna agreed. "High priced. But there's no way a vampire's going to say no to invulnerability-without-risks. Everyone's been drinking it. All over the world."

"Creating a global army," Buffy realized. "Of completely indestructible vampires. We humans won't realize it's there until it's too late to stop them. And humanity falls."

"But… wait," said Willow, turning to Joanna and Angel. "You guys said that the effects of the blood were cumulative. The vampires that were around the Doctor at the beginning would be way stronger, smarter, and quicker than all the others. And if I were a vampire, intelligent enough to infiltrate UNIT and Torchwood, who'd already wiped out Giles' coven and was currently amassing an army to wipe out the human race, the one place I'd put my strongest people would be…"

"Around the Slayer Institution," said Buffy. She glanced over at Willow. "He's in Cleveland. Right where we…" She stopped, and frowned, her face bent into sudden concentration. "Hang on."

"What?" asked Willow. "You think he's somewhere else?"

Buffy shook her head. "Not that," she said. "I'm just thinking… if the Doctor's been on our doorstep for a month and a half, being used as a weapon to wipe out the human race…" She glanced up at the others. "What's _he_ been doing?"


	8. Chapter 8

Razor stopped before the body chained to the floor. His prisoner. His bringer of salvation. His bringer of death. And stared — his eyes turning dark, his expression turning angry.

"He's unconscious," Razor observed. He spun around and turned on Veronica — one of his newly sired recruits. "Why is he unconscious?!"

"I thought… he'd be easier to control," Veronica squeaked. She backed away. "He can't try to escape as often."

"Control," Razor repeated. Then gave a bitter laugh. "You stupid little girl." He glanced over at Leandra, who stood in the doorway.

She took her commands based on the raise of his eyebrows, and made her way to the prisoner.

Razor turned back to Veronica. "What is the most dangerous aspect of a Time Lord?"

Veronica glanced over at the restrained Doctor. Bolted to the ground, surrounded by safeguards, psychic bubbles, and other technology Veronica knew nothing about, all working together to keep him imprisoned. "Strength?"

"No."

"Longevity?" Veronica guessed again. "Speed? Agility? Time travel capabilities? Regeneration?"

"The mind," Razor corrected. His eyes fixed on his prisoner. "All those tiny neurons, buzzing away, every single second of every single day." He spun around and grabbed Veronica, his hands around her throat, his face inches from her own. "Control? You call driving him into unconsciousness control?! He's controlling _you_ , you stupid girl! He's shutting down his body, to preserve the blood flow to his mind!"

Veronica looked between Razor and the Doctor, confused. "But… the machine! He's drained of blood! He can't even stand up."

"He's done it before," Razor snarled.

"Just shut up and kill her, already, Razor," Leandra complained, fiddling with the controls of the blood-draining machine. "Or has the pacifist's blood made you go soft?"

Razor grabbed a wooden stake, and within moments, Veronica was dust. New recruits were always so easy to deal with. Hadn't even developed the immunity to wooden stakes, yet.

Several sharp slaps, followed by a cough and sputter from the Doctor, as he awoke. His eyes on Leandra, who knelt over him.

"Can't escape us that easily, Time Lord," she cooed.

"Really?" asked the Doctor. "Past evidence would suggest otherwise." He gave a small grin, and a wink.

Leandra grabbed him by the tie, hoisting him up to her, his skin turning red where it scratched against his restraints.

"You might have escaped from us once before, but we caught you," she reminded him. "Recaptured you. Killed those who helped you. Remember that?"

All lightness left the Doctor's face. He didn't answer, but gave Leandra a stare that screamed of threat. Then he turned his head to look away, and spotted Razor. His face growing that much icier, his expression that much bleaker.

"Stop this," he demanded. "Now."

"Always the same from you," said Razor. He strolled towards the Doctor. "You won't let us do this. You'll stop us. If we value our lives, we should run." He gave a small smile. "Haven't managed to stop us, yet."

The Doctor didn't answer.

"You are defenseless," said Razor. "Beaten. Defeated. Just our food supply. Our nutritional supplement. Our Bringer of Death. There's no way you can escape."

"You said that last time."

Razor's good cheer dropped a hair. "And how many died for your transgression?"

The Doctor didn't answer.

"Accept your fate," said Razor. "The fate of this world. Humanity will be crushed, and we will gain control. You've tried to stop us, before. Countless times. You know you can't. Admit your own defenselessness. And give in."

The Doctor said nothing for a long moment. Then laughed.

"My own defenselessness," he repeated. He met Razor's eyes with his own. "Then tell me this. If there's no plan I could possibly think up that would stop you — why am I awake?"

* * *

Willow and Buffy stood by the TARDIS, the setting sun glimmering off its blue wooden exterior.

"We can't just leave this here," Willow said. "We should take it with us." She stepped closer to the TARDIS, her every movement hesitant. She put a hand up against its surface. "Feels… so… _scared_."

Buffy squeezed her hand around the book she'd taken from Angel's office. The instruction manual that detailed how to systematically imprison and torture the man she loved.

"Rent a truck so we can drive the TARDIS back to Cleveland," she said, turning away from Willow. "I've got a best-selling demon author to slay."


	9. September, 2004

**September, 2004**

.

Ria had been scared, at first. Scared to death.

The vampires had come in the middle of the night. They'd raided her home town, tearing apart her friends, family, and neighbors before her eyes. She'd watched people screaming, throwing one another in front of the vampires and running for their own lives, panicking, begging with tears and desperation for the vampires to just let them live!

Ria hadn't panicked.

She'd gathered up all the children — sometimes running into torched buildings to save a stranded toddler — and tried to make sure they survived. Get them to safety.

Then the vampires had caught up with her. Taken her and the children hostage. With a knife held to Ria's throat, the vampires had given her a choice. Her own life, or that of the children.

Ria had never felt more terrified than the moment she choked out the words, "Let the kids go."

She didn't know what happened to the children she'd tried to protect. She hoped that the vampires had been true to their word, but had a feeling she'd never know. She had a feeling she'd never see any of those kids again. Of course she wouldn't! She was about to die. She was at the mercy of monsters, and she'd just offered herself to them as a willing sacrifice.

Except… they hadn't killed her.

"She is a pretty one," one of the vampires had remarked.

"Young, pretty, brave, and full of spirit," another leered.

Ria swallowed. She summoned up all of her strength, all of her courage, and lashed out, tried to break free. But she couldn't escape from them. She couldn't get away. She held her breath, and braced herself for the worst.

"Oh, yes," said the first vampire. "She is perfect." Then he smacked her on top of the head, and the world faded into black around her.

When she awoke, she found herself here. In a place too horrible for nightmares. Surrounded by dark, damp stone walls. The torchlight — actual torches, with actual fire — illuminated the floor, where she could see the trickle of human blood, the scraps of human body parts strewn across the floor. The smell of rotting meat made her gag, and she thought she could hear rats and mice scurrying around nearby. Ria tried to move her arms and legs, but found she'd been manacled to the wall.

Oh, God, she was chained up, about to be food or some sex slave for vampires, and she didn't know what to do!

She tried to stifle her scream.

"Shh," a voice urged her. "You're all right. I promise, you'll be all right."

She looked over, and there, chained back-down to the floor with iron bands around his wrists and ankles, lay a man. A man attired in a blue button-down shirt and brown pinstripe suit pants. A man who looked half-dead, who was hooked up via plastic tubes to a great big machine, which seemed to be pumping and churning in the background. Every single one of the plastic tubes was an orangey red.

"Who… who are you?" asked Ria.

"I'm the Doctor," said the man. "And I promise, I'll get you out of this."

"Are you…? You're not…?"

"I'm not a vampire," the Doctor agreed. "Just a prisoner."

Ria shivered, partly from the cold, and partly from the fear. "Is that… what they're going to do to me?"

"No," said the Doctor. "You're… insurance. Make sure I don't change my blood chemistry on them. Or re-program their machinery. Or escape. Or feed them false information. Or try to stop them from destroying humanity. Or… well, any of the other things I've done, since I first arrived."

"But why me?" asked Ria. She had thought they were planning to turn her into some sort of… vampire sex slave or something. Which sounded way more erotic when you were daydreaming in your own bedroom about being seduced by a studly, charming vampire. And was way more creepy when you were about to be raped by sadistic maniacs in a damp basement.

"I believe it's because you've done something brave," said the Doctor. "That's what they seem to be doing, these days. Used to be they'd just pick up anyone, but it seems they've started specifically targeting people they think I'll like."

Ria tried to shudder away from this strange man. Was _he_ the creepy rapist? "Why?"

"Because I'll do more to make sure you don't get hurt," the Doctor informed her.

Ria blinked at him. Make sure she didn't get hurt? Who _was_ this guy? "I can take care of myself," she informed him, trying to sound braver than she felt.

"Good," said the Doctor. "I need you to be brave. I need you to be strong. And… I am very, very sorry. About all of this."

Ria swallowed. "The last… hostage," she said. "What… happened to them?"

The Doctor never answered her. He didn't need to.

She found out soon enough.

* * *

"No way!" Robin Wood shouted at Buffy, over the phone. "You hear me? There is absolutely no way that you are siding with that… that… Angel of Death!"

Buffy really should have expected this. After all, Wood had been raised by the Watchers. He'd probably been fed the Watchers Council's negative-Doctor-propaganda since he was a little boy.

But seriously. This? Again?! Did Wood just _enjoy_ swearing massive vendettas against all of Buffy's nonhuman friends?

"That alien got my mother killed!" Wood continued. "And you're… you're… trying to rescue him!"

"I thought you said Spike got your mother killed," said Buffy. "You know. Spike. The one you tried to murder. Who wound up _saving the world_."

"The Doctor could have saved my mother," Wood snapped. "He was there, the whole time. He told me. He brought back her body, and explained to us what happened. He watched her die, and did nothing!"

"Yeah," said Buffy. "Because he was travelling back through time, and couldn't."

"He's the reason that every single Slayer died!" Wood continued. "He is evil incarnate! The bane of existence itself! The spreader of lies, the bewitcher of words, the…"

"You're not actually listening to me at all, are you?" Buffy sighed. She leaned back in the passenger seat of the truck. "Okay. Here's the deal. You've sworn a vendetta against the Doctor. And there's nothing I can do to stop you from trying to kill him. So — you know what? I won't."

Wood paused. "You won't?"

"Nope," said Buffy. "Kill him. Go on! I'm not going to stop you." She cradled the phone closer to her ear. "But, question is, do you really _want_ to kill him?"

Wood paused a moment. "Of course I…"

"The Doctor's a very forgiving person," said Buffy. "He won't hold it against you, if you try to kill him. But you know who will?" Buffy narrowed her eyes. "All of his friends."

"His… alien friends," Wood said.

"His human friends," Buffy corrected. "Normal, ordinary humans. Who've travelled with him. And happen to like him." She leaned her elbow against the edge of the car window. "So I'm going to find all his friends, and tell them everything. Who you are. Where to find you. What you nearly did to Spike. What you're planning to do to the Doctor. And why."

"I don't—"

"If you keep the Doctor alive," Buffy continued, "he'll stop his friends from killing you. If you kill him, then there's no one who can stop them. And, take it from me, _ex_ -principal Wood. As one of the Doctor's friends." She switched to a low, dangerous voice, and said, "You really — _really_ — don't want to know what we do to people who mess with him."

* * *

Joanna swore. Very loudly.

All eyes turned to her. Hunched over the desk, phone in hand, her eyes fixed down on the floor. She thudded the receiver down, and turned to Angel.

"Ever had one of those days when you really wished you were still a heartless killing machine?" she asked. "Because I've got some people that really, really deserve a heartlessly brutal death."

"You found the Time Lord Blood distributor?" Angel guessed.

"I found out which vampire gang the Ex-Vampire Revenge Group sold the Doctor out to," said Joanna. Her breathing came harder, faster. "And if I could resurrect those ex-vamp bastards, I'd give them the killing they _really_ deserved."

"They were murdered by the vampires they wanted to save them," said Angel. "It was brutal enough."

"Oh, yeah?" Joanna thrust the sheet of notes in front of Angel's face. "It was Razor's gang. Razor! That's who's got the Doctor, right now!"

Angel froze, a myriad of emotions running through his face. Then he looked back at Joanna. "You're right," he conceded. "Not close to brutal enough."

* * *

The prisoner knelt at Razor's feet. Razor's alien prisoner. Chained, bound, guarded on all sides. Barely able to move. The prisoner should, Razor knew, be bowing, groveling, pleading. Should be crying, begging them to show some compassion. But the prisoner was stubborn — always so stubborn! — and far too proud.

"She didn't make it," said Razor.

The Doctor didn't answer. Didn't even look at Razor. Just kept his eyes locked on the floor.

"We caught her in the end," Razor explained. "Just the way we always do, when you try to help your pretty little friends to escape. Your Rina is dead. And you know what that means for you."

The Doctor said nothing.

"You know what happens next."

Still, silence.

Razor glanced over at the others. He hated it when his prisoners went quiet. Particularly when they should be pleading for mercy.

"No objections?" Razor prompted. "No desperate pleas? No outrage over the death of your brave little Rina?"

"Ria," the Doctor whispered.

Razor regarded his prisoner, curiously.

"Her name," the Doctor repeated, "was _Ria_." He looked up at Razor, his eyes stormy. "You killed her and you didn't even know her name!"

A smile crept up Razor's face. This was what he'd been expecting. The rage. The anger. A reaction that demonstrated his prisoner's loss of internal control.

"No human gets out of here alive," Razor reminded him. "Remember that." He glanced over at the others. "Secure him, again, and get the next hostage ready. It's time," glancing back at the Doctor, "for his punishment."


	10. Chapter 10

"All dead," Dawn announced, as she marched into the Slayer Institution. She turned to Xander. "Every single person in Pleasantville, Vermont. Fourth town so far." She glanced at the others in the room. "It's TBVs doing it. For sure."

"No survivors?" asked Faith.

"Not one," Dawn said, dropping her weapons bag on the floor. "By the time UNIT and I got there, there wasn't even anything left to fight. Hit and run job. TBVs were long gone, the humans were all dead, and the town was in flames."

"Hang on, the TBVs can't just be wiping out everyone!" Xander insisted. "I know the Doctor's an alien, and he's got two hearts and probably a lot more blood than normal people, but… he can't have enough to feed every single vampire in the world. They've got to have some… I don't know. Farm, or bloodbank, or something!"

"What do you want me to do, count bodies?" Dawn demanded. "I don't know, Xander. There was no one left alive, and the whole place was burned to ash. I don't know if the TBVs are taking people prisoner, or where those prisoners are being kept, if they are. I don't know anything!"

Xander noticed the fury in Dawn's expression, and decided his own vehemence wasn't helping. He sat down on a nearby chair. "Any idea when Buffy's getting back?"

"Any day, now," said Dawn. She stared down at the floor. "I guess that's good. We'll actually be able to do stuff, again."

"I've been _trying_ to get the Slayers to do things," Faith said. "You know how it is. They remember what happened, last time I led them. Against the First. They've learned their lesson. They're not following anyone except Buffy."

"You can't blame them for being afraid," Xander added.

"No," said Dawn. "But I _can_ blame them for being professional vampire hunters who aren't doing anything to stop vampires from slaughtering innocent people!" She glared at Faith. "I was there! I saw what those TBVs did! Why the hell wasn't anyone else there?"

"Dawn," said Xander. "Seriously. Chill."

Faith glanced down at her still-broken arm, her bandaged ankle, and her plethora of injuries. Then back at Dawn. "Don't think I'd be much help to anyone, fighting like this."

"We've only just figured out what the TBVs are," said Xander. "We still don't have any idea how to kill them. Even if we could predict where they're going to strike—"

"Or where their HQ is," Faith put in.

"—if we sent an army in, now, we'd be committing suicide," said Xander. "We need to find some way we can kill them before we fight back."

Dawn's eyes fell on the Scythe. The most powerful weapon they had. And against the TBVs, it was worthless.

Xander was right. Sending in the Slayers, now, would just be sending these girls to their deaths.

"Buffy's probably worked something out, by now," said Xander. "Or Willow. You'll see. The moment they get back, we'll go off, kill these TBVs, rescue the Doctor, and let Buffy leave Earth and have her epic space adventure just like she's always wanted."

Dawn sighed. "That's… the other thing."

"Other thing?" asked Faith.

Dawn cringed. "I got… a message," she confessed. "For Buffy. And I don't… know how to give it to her."

"Don't know how to give me what?" asked Buffy, as she and Willow entered the Slayer Institution.

Dawn froze, staring at her sister. Mouth forming words, but brain unable to give them voice.

Buffy crossed her arms.

"It's… this… military guy," Dawn said, at last. "That I met. In Vermont. He told me to tell you that the US military's heard about what's going on with the Doctor, and… that Finn's coming."

Buffy's eyes widened.

"Riley?" Willow asked.

"Yeah," said Dawn. "The 'Let's Lock the Doctor in the Initiative for Two Months and Not Tell Anyone About It' Riley. He heard the Doctor was getting tortured. And now he's coming."

"Fighting on _our_ side," asked Xander, "or for the vampires?"

"Xander!" snapped Buffy.

"What?" asked Xander. "Considering Riley's previous attitude towards both vampires, and the Doctor, I think that's a completely valid question."

"This is Riley we're talking about," Buffy reminded them. "Whatever his… petty rivalries… he'd never fight on the side that's taking down humanity."

Dawn muttered something under her breath about the Initiative creating Adam, which Buffy purposely chose to ignore.

"Could be he really wants to help," said Faith. "Feeling guilty. Making up for past crimes."

"Yeah, and maybe Buffy's trips to England haven't all been Police Box oriented," said Xander.

Faith gave a little shrug. "Just saying. We humans. One day, we're trying to feed the world to a giant snake, and the next… could be we wind up fighting off the Origin of all Evil. Change happens."

Willow looked skeptical. "He was still pretty anti-Doctor last time he visited Sunnydale."

"Face the facts," Xander said. "Riley might not like the TBVs, but he _really_ hates the Doctor."

Buffy snapped her head around. "TB whats?"

Xander and Dawn both looked away, awkwardly, trying to figure out how best to avoid answering Buffy's question.

"We can't keep calling them 'the vampires' anymore, B," said Faith. "There are normal vamps out there, too. It was getting confusing. We had to come up with a name."

"TBV," said Buffy.

"It stands for… Time Blood Vamps," Dawn admitted. She scuffed her shoe against the ground. "Sorry."

Buffy didn't react. Just stared at her sister, her face completely expressionless, her eyes boring into everyone there with just a hint of the pain and anger she was feeling inside. Then she turned, and left. Went back to her office.

"I guess it's a pretty sucky time to be Buffy," said Willow.

Which was exactly what Buffy was thinking, inside her office, the moment the phone rang.

* * *

"What's that supposed to mean?" Buffy demanded of Angel, her hand tight around the receiver of the phone. "Who the hell is Razor?"

"He's one of the bad ones," Angel confessed.

Joanna, in the background, added something about that being a serious understatement.

"He has this idea that a vampire gang shouldn't just… kill people," Angel continued. "That vampires are entitled to things. Simply because they're vampires. He doesn't just abduct people to kill them, eat them, or torture them for some sadistic pleasure. He selects people who can give him whatever he wants, and then he… breaks them. Emotionally."

Buffy couldn't answer.

"Razor got his name because it's… his trademark torture move," said Angel. "He hangs his victims upside down, and digs thousands of razor blades into their skin, across their entire body, and then he..." Angel paused. "Actually, you don't want to hear the rest of what he does."

No, Buffy didn't. Not when she kept imagining everything Angel was describing happening to the Doctor.

From the background, Buffy heard Joanna's voice sounding annoyed, then the phone was snatched away, and Joanna's voice came through the receiver, instead.

"Razor is _not_ stringing the Doctor up by his toes and using razor blades on him," Joanna said. "Time Lord blood is worth way too much. You think he'd waste that? Whatever Razor's doing to the Doctor, it's probably way worse."

Buffy took in a deep breath. "Okay," she said. "Okay. Yeah. Sure. Got it. Just…" She shook her head, trying to get all her thoughts in order. "Is there anything _useful_ you can tell me? Like… how to _kill_ these vampires, or… anything like that?"

"I'm going to run some tests," said Joanna. "As soon as I can get a blood sample. Figure out what about the blood is strengthening these vampires, and what might kill them. I thought I could just go out and buy some Time Lord blood, but apparently, when word gets out that you're working with the Slayer, vampires start treating you like you're a traitor."

Well, yeah. Joanna was trying to destroy all the other vampires, after all.

Hang on…

"We've got access to the Doctor's blood!" Buffy realized. "And… UNIT. Marianna Forlich! She knows how to create vamp-away! We could…"

"Marianna Forlich is dead," said Joanna. "So's Carolyn McConnell. And everyone else who knows how to make Vamp-Away. Trust me, Razor's gang knew what they were doing. They planned for this."

Buffy sighed. "Thanks. I'll… see what I can do."

And hung up.

* * *

"The question isn't whether Buffy can move it," Xander panted, his face turning red with the strain. "It's whether…" A thud, as the TARDIS dropped out of their hands, and landed back into the trunk of the pickup truck. "…we want to get our heads snapped off, asking her," Xander finished.

Willow turned to Kennedy. "You've got Slayer strength."

"And you've got super witchcraft skills," said Kennedy. "That doesn't mean either of us is making any difference."

"How'd you move this thing, back in LA?" Dawn asked Willow.

"Industrial crane," said Willow.

Everyone looked at Xander.

"Uh," said Xander. "No more Sunnydale, no more construction jobs for Xander. Hence, no more access to industrial cranes." He glanced over at Faith. "Ask her boyfriend. Ex-Principal Wood. He was the one who got this building constructed for us."

Everyone turned to Faith.

Faith gave an uncomfortable shrug. "Not sure anything could get him to help, with this," she said. "Not where the TARDIS is concerned. Watcher propaganda and stuff."

Everyone stared at Faith. Then groaned.

"Wood's sworn another vendetta?" asked Kennedy. "Is this what he does in his spare time, or something?"

"Dunno," said Faith. "But he's not coming anywhere near the Doctor's ship. No matter what. In fact, he wants it in the basement. Far as possible away from all of us. He made that clear."

"As if Riley coming back wasn't bad enough," Dawn muttered.

"Riley," came Buffy's voice, as she approached, "is going to be an asset, when he gets here. And no trouble. I'm not doubting Riley. At all."

"You're just going to keep him very far away from guns," Dawn muttered.

"And certain aliens," Xander added.

Buffy stopped, beside the group, and glanced at all of them. Then the TARDIS. Then squatted down, and in a great big heave, lifted one corner clean off the pickup truck.

Beneath Buffy's touch, the TARDIS calmed a little. As if recognizing an old friend.

And Buffy forced all her worries about the Doctor out of her head.


	11. Chapter 11

Leandra watched as her prisoner tried not to scream. Not to even show that it hurt. Not to give them any satisfaction, as she dragged a long nail across his swollen, blistered, and damaged skin, in the area usually covered by his iron-band restraints. The area that Leandra had uncovered for this very purpose, attaching the restraints further up on his arms. He gritted his teeth, breathed heavily, but… still…

Not one scream.

The sandpaper Leandra had brought, and used at this point, produced the desired effect.

She gave a theatrical little pout. "You don't act like the others," she complained, as she set down the sandpaper and instead reached for a box of matches. Razor had made it clear — play with him all they liked, but not a single drop of blood could be spilt.

So burning should be fine.

"Others?" her prisoner said. Dark eyes fixed on Leandra. "What others?"

She struck the match, and held it against his skin, watching it blister and roast before her eyes. "You haven't even asked me, yet. That question they always ask." She leaned in a little closer. "You haven't even asked me… _why_."

The Doctor sucked in a breath.

Leandra raised her voice, and bugged out her eyes, impersonating all those scared, worthless little humans they'd used in the past. Their prisoners, all of whom had bowed before them, in the end, and given Razor everything he wanted.

"'Why?'" Leandra impersonated, in a horrified, breathy voice. "'Why are you doing this to me?' 'What have I done to deserve this?' 'Why are you being so heartless, so cruel?'"

The Doctor didn't answer.

Leandra stopped the impersonation, and tossed the match into the mud, before it burned her fingers. She leaned in, closer. "I wish you'd ask," she whispered into his ear. "I love it when they ask."

The Doctor met her eyes with his. "I already know why."

Leandra hesitated.

"Simple, really," the Doctor said, his eyes challenging, his face showing the slightest hint of amusement. In a whisper, he explained to her: "You're _afraid_."

Leandra jolted backwards, at this, abruptly. Then realized what she'd just done, and what it had proved. And planted a cold, calculating expression on her face.

"Of course not!" she insisted. "All this is just fun and games to us. We enjoy making you scream. We love watching you…"

"Oh, give it a rest!" the Doctor cut in. "Is that the best excuse you can come up with? Pure sadism?" He gave her a sharp, biting stare, the kind that made Leandra want to back away, a little farther. "Obvious, really. You know who I am. Heard how dangerous I can be. You think if you can make me scream, it means you hold some power over me. You think it means you're safe. But inside… you're still terrified. Because inside, you know it doesn't."

Leandra said nothing.

The Doctor paused a moment, analyzing her. "But it's more than that, isn't it?" he said. His eyes bore into her — through her. "Vampires. Superstitious lot. Bet you went to your local sooth-sayer to find out how this would all turn out. In the future. If this gambit of yours would succeed."

"I…" Leandra looked away. "Your blood makes me eternal, Time Lord. Invulnerable. Undefeatable. I defy prophecy."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "So that's it," he said. "It's not your group that went to the sooth sayer. It's you. Personally. You, Leandra — _you've_ been told you're going to die. Soon." He glanced down at the sandpaper, now lying abandoned by her side. Implements of torture. "My blood is your salvation. But you have to go through me to get it. That's why you're afraid."

Leandra said nothing.

"Stop this, and let me go," the Doctor told her, "and I can help you. I can give you a full, good, happy life."

"You mean you'll turn her human?" asked the vampire named Oliver, emerging from the shadows of their hideout. He leaned against the nearby wall, arms crossed. "Turn us all human? Sentence us to a long, lingering death?"

Leandra grabbed up the sandpaper, again, and ground it viciously against the area she'd just burned.

The Doctor laughed through gritted teeth. "Oh, you're frightened," he said, trying to catch his breath. "Leandra. Oliver. Joe. Everyone! Terribly, terribly frightened! That's why!"

"The lesser ones might fear you, Time Lord," said Razor, brushing past Oliver and stepping in front of the Doctor. "But I have no such fear. No such weakness." He caught Leandra's hand in his own, pulling the torture implement away from their prisoner. "If you were… cooperative, led us to singularity, perhaps I'd even show you kindness."

The Doctor glanced over at Razor, struggling to regain his breath. "Not afraid?" he asked, half panting. "You really think so?" He raised an eyebrow. "Leandra and the others — they're afraid of death. Of humanity. Of me. But with you… it's something entirely different. Isn't it, Razor?"

Razor kept his face calm, vaguely amused, unchanged, but… in the corner of his eye… was that a spark of fear? A spark of trepidation?

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Razor.

"You're hooked," the Doctor said. "Addicted. My blood's a drug, and you can't get enough. And if I run away or die, if you can't drink my blood and get your next fix — that scares you too much to even think about." He grinned. "Truth is… I hold more power over you than everyone else, here. Because you can't live without me."

Razor grabbed a snarly, twisted knife and lunged at the Doctor, holding the tip at his throat.

The Doctor crossed his eyes to glance down at the knife, interested. "You didn't mean to do that, did you?"

Razor blinked, staring at the knife in his hand. Then took it away, and stepped back, standing up straight. "You're the one who holds power over me?" In two steps, he was across the room, his hands around the human hostage's throat. The pretty, brave human girl struggling to break free. "Then stop me from killing her."

"Razor…" the Doctor warned, amusement slipping off his face.

Razor met the Doctor's eyes with his own. "Is that all?" And snapped the girl's neck.

The Doctor said nothing, as Razor let go of the girl — a perfectly good meal, gone to waste — and the body fell to the ground, a heap of rotting flesh and spoiled blood.

"It's wise to be cautious of the fire that can burn you," Razor told the Doctor. "That doesn't change the fact that it's _my_ fire. Helping me. Giving me strength. Giving me life. And I can control it, just as easily as I can snuff it out."

The Doctor said nothing, his eyes still fixed on the dead girl. Her name on his lips.

"Nothing to say?" Razor challenged, stepping forwards. "No threats or promises this time? No protests?"

The Doctor jerked his head around, to face Leandra, once more. His eyes tearing through her like a thousand knives.

"You're right, Leandra," he told her. "You should be very, _very_ afraid of me."


	12. Chapter 12

"Bloody hell, do I have to do _everything_ for you?" Spike asked, spraying Angel with the fire extinguisher for, what felt like, the hundred thousandth time.

Angel raised up the Amulet. "You said it'd activate in sunlight."

"Yeah, well, it's your funeral, mate, not mine," said Spike. He shook the fire extinguisher, as the foam resided. "Last trial run, anyways. This thing's out of juice."

"Maybe the Amulet only works when _you_ wear it," Angel pointed out. "That prophecy we got in this Amulet's future did say — not me, and not Buffy."

Spike thunked the empty fire extinguisher on the ground. "Like I said," he snapped. "I'll help you save the world. But no more bloody amulets!"

"Are you guys still trying to get that thing to work?" Joanna asked, poking her head outside. "It's been hours."

"The Doctor gave it to us, specifically, because we knew what it does and how it works," Angel told the other two. "He wouldn't have given it to us if we couldn't activate it."

Joanna rolled her eyes. "You don't know him very well, do you?"

Spike and Angel looked at one another. Then back at Joanna.

"The Doctor always gives you stuff for a reason," Joanna said. "But the reason isn't always what he says it is."

* * *

"Buffy, we've gone over this before," Willow said. "The Doctor isn't from Earth. Magic is. I can't find him using magic. Not back when he was stuck in the Initiative. Not now."

Buffy looked away from Willow. "Okay."

Willow studied Buffy, carefully. "You want me to try, anyways."

"I'm not going to force you to do something you're uncomfortable with," said Buffy.

Willow felt the frustration bubbling up inside of her. "No, Buffy, you're not listening!" she said. "This isn't some post-magical-addiction issue! Even when I was all-powerful, evil-magic, destroy-the-world Willow, I _couldn't_ have found the Doctor! Because he's not from Earth!"

"You felt the TARDIS," Buffy pointed out.

"Even _you_ felt the TARDIS," Willow said. "The TARDIS was screaming! It wanted someone to notice."

Buffy didn't answer, but Willow could see that terrible look of disappointment washing over her. Buffy had known, of course, due to the Initiative thing. But she must have still really hoped that maybe, _this_ time… Willow would be able to help.

"Joanna," said Buffy, at last. "She said… something about a psychic link. Between her and the Doctor. She's human. Maybe, if you…"

Willow shook her head. She'd had the same idea. "I talked to Joanna about it. The psychic link cut out a while ago. There's nothing."

Buffy muttered something, under her breath.

"What?"

Buffy snapped her head up to Willow. "I said, you can bring me back from the dead! Go against every law of nature there is! But you can't find the Doctor!"

Willow examined Buffy, carefully. "This… Riley thing," she realized. "You're really worried about it."

"No." Buffy turned away and walked over to the other end of her office. Fiddling with some papers, trying to look busy. "Riley's coming," she said. "And that's great. Really, really great."

"And if we just happened to find the Doctor and get him safely under your protection before Riley arrives, I bet that'd be great, too," Willow guessed.

"Riley's… a good guy," Buffy said. Firmly. "I trust him with the Earth."

Just the Earth. Of course. Not with anything or anyone that wasn't from Earth.

"I just…" Buffy stopped. Then looked back at Willow. "Spike died. He trusted me, and I just… lost him. Burned him away. I lost Spike, and now I'm going to… lose…" She glanced down at the ground. "I can't. I just… _can't_."

"I wish I could help you," Willow said, trying to make her voice as soothing as possible. "Really, I do. But… think about it, Buffy. Even if I could create a… find-the-Doctor spell… what entity would I invoke to make it work? It's not like there's some… all-powerful… Protect-the-Doctor super entity out there."

Buffy froze. Her hands shaking. Then spun around to face Willow, her entire face lighting up.

"All powerful Protect-the-Doctor entity!" she cried.

Then she ran over to Willow, and swept her into a tight hug. The hints of tears in Buffy's eyes.

"Thank you, Willow," Buffy breathed. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

* * *

"There really _is_ an all-powerful, Doctor Protecting super entity out there?" Willow asked. "Seriously?"

"Yes," said Buffy, gathering together everything she needed for a simple summoning spell. "And he happens to like me."

"Uh-huh," said Xander. "Right. And that's why you've not managed to find the Doctor for the last three and a half…" He stopped, under Buffy's death-glare. And raised up his hands in surrender. "All right! Doctor-Protecting super entity loves you! No arguments from me!"

Buffy took out a piece of chalk, and drew a circle on the floor. A circle surrounding her. Then spread the herbs she'd assembled around the chalk circle, and began. "I invoke thee, entity — all powerful, all seeing. I summon thee into this realm. Summon thee into this corporeal plane. Blessed be the name of…" Buffy stopped. Then realized she'd hit a small snag in her plan. "Goddamn it! He doesn't have a name!"

"Don't take it so personally," came an English-accented voice from behind her.

Everyone in the room turned, to find themselves face-to-face with a tall man with blue eyes and close-cropped brown hair, wearing a leather jacket and speaking with a Northern English accent.

Xander squinted. "Hang on. I know I've seen that face somewhere before."

Buffy, in the meantime, jumped to her feet, her eyes fixed on the entity before her. The one who had no name. "You," she said. "Mr.… No Name… Whatever. You were created to protect the Doctor, right? That's your job."

"Much as I can," the entity replied. "Considering."

"Well, he's in trouble, right now," said Buffy. "And I need your help. I need to find the Doctor. No — not just that." Because what use was finding the Doctor, if she couldn't fight back against these TBVs? "I need… something I can use to fight back. Something really powerful. I need to save him. And… just…" she took a deep breath. "…I'd like… some sign that he's still alive."

Because above all else, Buffy knew, she really needed hope.

The entity stared at her, horror on his face. "You… you're askin' me to…"

"Yeah, I am," said Buffy. She gave a radiant, sweet smile. "And… you can't say no to me. Remember?"

The entity threw up his hands in irritation. "You thick-headed, imbecilic, stupid ape!" he snapped. "You have any idea what you've just done? With everything else that's going on and the contract stretched to its limit? You have any idea what your little wish really means?!"

Buffy held her cool. Crossed her arms. Didn't let his rage affect her.

She wasn't about to back down about this.

"I can't say no to you!" the entity continued. "You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it! Was already plannin' on intervenin', here, even if you'd kept your yap shut. But, oh no, you had to summon me here and ask, didn't you? Had to make a big stink!"

Buffy was a little dumbstruck.

"Now, if I do say no — game is up!" the entity continued. "Everything comes out in the open. So… can't do that. But if I say yes — becomes an impossible choice. Choice demanding a sacrifice. People could die — entire universe could end!" He pointed at her. "That's what you've done!"

"Okay, okay," said Buffy. "New wish, then. I want you to help me find the Doctor, help me save the world, help me save his life, give me something to fight with, _and_ make sure the universe doesn't end. That help?"

The entity didn't seem placated. "No."

"Look," said Buffy, "I'm sorry about this… whatever it is I've screwed up for you. But I've already asked you for help. I can't exactly undo that, now."

The entity's fury melted into angry resignation. "Suppose not."

"And if you're screwed no matter what," said Buffy, "then there's no harm in agreeing to help me, is there?"

The entity sighed. "You're really not gonna back down on this."

"Nope."

"Even knowin' all the consequences," the entity continued. "All the risks. Even knowin' that — if I do this for you, whatever winds up happening as a result is your own fault — you _still_ want me to do this?"

"Yes."

The entity sighed. Then muttered a, "See what I can do." And disappeared.

Buffy felt a small smile tug at the edges of her lips. Go her, for knowing a super-entity that was willing to do whatever she asked him!

"Buffy," said Willow. "That… entity. It's… I mean…"

"A friend of mine," Buffy said.

Xander snapped his fingers. "I got it!" he shouted. "That entity! He looks just like all those pictures of the Doctor that your crazy nutcase friend Clive Finch put on his webpage!"

"Yeah, that's because it takes on the appearance of the Doctor's Ninth…" Buffy stopped. "Hang on. Clive Finch is so _not_ a nutcase!"

"Have you _read_ his webpage?" asked Xander. "I've actually met aliens, and I still think Clive Finch is one seriously crazy UFO conspiracy nut."

"Buffy," Willow cut in, before they could get too distracted from their original subject. "You just summoned an all-powerful entity, and asked him to do something that could end the universe."

Buffy gave a small shrug. "Yeah," she said. "But he won't."

"You don't know that," said Willow. "If you give these entities a chance, they can do unspeakably powerful…"

"Willow, this is an all-powerful super-entity designed to protect the Doctor, who happens to have a human soul," said Buffy. "He's really, _really_ not going to end the universe. I'm positive."

Willow said nothing for a few moments. Then, "What about the 'results'?"

Buffy frowned. "Huh?"

"That entity," said Willow. "He said whatever happens as a result of your wish — it's going to be your fault. So… what happens?"

"Does it matter?" Buffy sighed.

"It might!"

"Will, as long as the Doctor gets rescued, the world is saved, and the universe is okay, I'm not all that picky," said Buffy. "Whatever the future brings, I can handle it. Let's just worry about the present, okay? Because, if we don't, this world's not going to have a future."

And Buffy had way too many problems, right now, to be able to deal with some other 4th dimensional craziness on top of it all.

A flicker out of the corner of their eyes, and Buffy turned to find the entity-without-a-name once again appearing in front of them, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

"You're sure?" he asked Buffy. "Really, really sure?"

"Really, really, really," Buffy agreed.

"You meant to call _me_?" the entity continued. "To help you? No matter what the implications — long as it doesn't destroy the universe?"

"For the last time, yes!" Buffy snapped.

The entity sighed. "All right, I'll tell her you're sure," he said, fading away. "But I don't think your younger-self's in any mood to listen."

Buffy froze. The tiniest hint of a thought beginning to blossom inside her head. "My younger-self…"

"Anyone else feeling a little weirded out by the all-powerful, non-corporeal entity that shows up looking like dead people and _doesn't_ want to kill us?" Xander asked.

Buffy wasn't listening, though. She'd suddenly worked it out. Worked it all out. Because… he'd told her. Before.

" _My superpower is mucking about with history. So by the time you actually ask me for help, I've already done it_."

An army of Slayers — powerful enough to fight back against vampires (if Buffy could ever figure out some weapon that would actually kill the TBVs). Her transportation to that other world, during 2003 — which had to be filled, Buffy was sure, with the information she'd need, now, to help her find the Doctor. And the most obvious thing of all — the sign that the Doctor was still alive, and unvampirized. By showing her what the world would be like, if the Doctor had actually become evil.

Buffy burst into laughter.

"Oh, wow," she said. "I… don't know if I'm a genius, or really stupid."

Xander and Willow looked at one another. Then at Buffy. "What did you do?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure," said Buffy, "that, among other things, I've just become responsible for the creation of the Scythe." She glanced up at the Scythe, where it was hanging in its place of honor, on the wall. "No wonder it didn't work against the TBVs."

Xander gave Buffy a completely blank look.

"If it had worked," Buffy explained, "then I'd already have hacked the TBVs to pieces, found the Doctor, and rescued him by now. Without ever calling on the Doctor-Protecting Super Entity in the first place. Which meant the Scythe would never have been created, super massive paradox, and the collapse of all of time and space. Which Mr. Powerful Entity just avoided." She grinned. "He's good. I'll give him that."

"This… Doctor Protecting Super Entity that can't say no to you, you mean," said Willow.

Xander leaned over to Willow. "I know this may sound like a dumb question, but… if this is a _Doctor_ -Protecting super entity, why's _Buffy_ the one it can't say no to?"

"I was thinking exactly the same thing," Willow muttered.

Once more, a shimmer in the air, as the being who resembled the Ninth Doctor reappeared.

"Right, then!" he announced, with grin. "Went back through time. Altered a bit of history. Managed to psychically reunite a tortured Gallifreyan baby's soul using a regenerative recycler which activated the Potential Slayers. Avoided a universe-ending paradox with that one, too, before you ask. Also helped out a group of alien refugees — 'guardians', called themselves. Nice women. Alice was sweet. I gave you all the information you requested. Plus — small bonus — managed to get rid of a pesky group of Daleks in the 39th century, and, in the even more distant future, divert the Oblivion War. Most horrific war in the history of the human race — gone!" His grin widened. "You're welcome!"

Willow and Xander just stared.

"And, to show you how good I am," continued the entity that wasn't the Ninth Doctor, nodding towards the door, as his form vanished into thin air, "even brought you some moral support."

Just as the entity faded completely out of existence, Dawn ran into the room, cell phone pressed against her ear, talking animatedly to someone on the other end.

She looked up at Buffy, and handed the phone over to her.

"It's Giles," she said. "Apparently, there's this guy that's seen you on the Powell Estates, who keeps following Giles around London and won't stop flirting with him. And Giles wants you to get Mr. Harkness to stop."

Buffy's grin grew even wider. As she took the phone.


	13. Chapter 13

Spike looked around the abandoned apartment. It had looked exactly like the house in which he'd found that Amulet — torn to shreds, blood everywhere, the entire place a wreck. Except that _this_ mess had happened later.

"The Doctor was here," Spike said. He turned back to Joanna. "You're sure?"

"There's a faint psychic trace," said Joanna. She put her hand to her head. "I can feel it. He was…" She glanced around, then spotted the torn-apart bed. "There."

Spike went over a little closer, examining the blood staining the mattress and pillow. The blood that was the wrong color — a little too orange to be human. He sniffed at it.

"Smells normal," he said.

"It's… olfactory misdirection," said Joanna. She clutched at her head, and gritted her teeth. "I think." She sighed, her hands dropping. "It's hard. The stray thoughts, the psychic traces he left in this place, they're… faint. Very faint."

"It's been at least a month since the police investigated this flat," said Spike. "I'm surprised you can pick up anything at all."

He stared at the area, trying to think. Put the pieces together. He'd never been much of a detective, of course; he was more of a beat-people-up kind of vampire. But if this — finding the Doctor — would make Buffy happy…

Spike guessed that was all he really wanted, in the end.

"So the Doctor escaped," said Spike. "Shortly after getting captured. Really escaped. Lost Razor's gang completely, got rescued by a human family, cared for, hidden. Everything. And Razor still found him." He shook his head, as he made his way back to Joanna. "Not looking too good for our side, is it?"

Joanna kept staring at the apartment. The apartment that was still just the same as it was the day the vampires had arrived, even a month after the police were finished with it. The apartment in which the Doctor hid, and then was found. In the entire city of LA — and all the surrounding suburbs — despite the dimensional instability that still lingered, despite the size, despite the traffic, despite the sheer impossibility, the vampires had still managed to track the Doctor down.

And this place was still here. This crime scene. Perfectly preserved, for them. Like a warning.

"Something's wrong," Joanna said.

* * *

"So, tell me," said Jack, over the phone, "what's a gorgeous little Slayer like you doing hanging around the Powell Estates?"

Buffy stifled a smile. Gorgeous little Slayer? Geeze. "You really are always like that, aren't you?"

"Always like what?" A hint of hesitation in Jack's voice, then, "Have we met before?"

"About six years ago," Buffy said. Even though, to her, the last time they'd met had only been about a year ago. Except that hadn't been this Jack, in this world, in this timeline. "It doesn't matter. The Doctor said you wouldn't remember."

A much longer silence. "You know the…?" Then, as if muttering under his breath, "Of course you do. Why else would you be hanging out around Rose all the time?"

Now it was Buffy's turn to be a little surprised. "Woah, woah, wait. You didn't know that I had a connection with…?" She shook her head. "You mean you've been running around London, bugging Giles, and you don't know about…?"

"What can I say?" asked Jack. "I fell for Rupert's charms."

Buffy decided to ignore that, because Giles plus Jack was a seriously disturbing thing to think about. "And you wanted Giles to get in touch with me, because…" she sighed. "No, let me guess. Vampires have already infiltrated Torchwood, and done something really bad. Probably to one of the other branches."

"Torchwood Four," Jack muttered.

"You're worried," said Buffy. "You heard about UNIT and the Coven, and got _really_ worried. Then you saw me hanging out around the Powell Estates, and thought — the best way to destroy an army of unstoppable vampires is using a Vampire Slayer. How am I doing so far?"

Jack gave a little laugh. "Smart, easy on the eyes, good with a stake," he said. "I think I'm going to like you, Buffy."

"Which means," Buffy cut in, "that you've got no idea what the TBVs are, or what's going on with the Doctor."

A few moments of complete silence. When Jack spoke again, all levity was gone from his voice. "What are you talking about?"

Buffy took a deep breath. And told him.

* * *

"So, this 'Jack' guy is… immortal," said Dawn, "but he's not a vampire. Because he can't be a vampire. Because when he gets vampirized, it 'doesn't stick'."

"Pretty much," Buffy agreed, leaning against a pillar at the airport arrivals area.

"Which means he's just… randomly immortal," Dawn continued. "Like, he dies, but something or someone keeps bringing him back to life. Over and over again. For no apparent reason."

"Yep."

Dawn and Xander both turned accusing stares at Willow.

Willow gaped at them.

"Um, no!" said Willow. "So not me, this time! I don't just… bring people back from the dead over and over again." She paused, fidgeting with the sleeve of her shirt, her eyes falling on Buffy. "Well, I definitely don't bring _him_ back from the dead, over and over again."

"If this Jack guy's a time traveler, like Buffy says, maybe future-you brought him back," Xander proposed. His single good eye lit up, with sudden inspiration. "Maybe, in the future, you guys have a love affair, and then he dies and you're so broken-hearted that…"

"Xander," Willow cut in. "Gay! Remember?"

"Look, I'm not an expert on what happened to Jack," said Buffy, "but I'm pretty sure that Willow didn't have anything to do with it." And she really didn't think that going into the details of what she did know would win her any favors with these guys. Since they were already pretty Rose-weary to begin with.

"Does the whole being-immortal thing mess up your head?" asked Dawn. "Because… this Jack guy's been flirting with Giles. Like… Giles! And that's just…" She made a face.

"My current theory is that after you're brought back from the dead," said Xander, "your ideas about who to sleep with and who not to sleep with go completely bonkers."

Buffy winced. And tried not to think about Spike.

Willow elbowed Xander.

"Jack knew that Giles had a connection with me," Buffy said. "And wanted to get his attention. That's all. He's not going to sleep with Giles." Then shuddered, as the unwanted mental image slithered into her mind and festered therein.

As if right on cue to enter at the worst possible moment, Giles came through the door into the arrivals area. Followed by a very dashing man with twinkling blue eyes, a winning smile, and a World War II military greatcoat.

Giles' eyes landed on Buffy, and his expression softened, as he rushed to greet her. Dropping his bags and giving her a sweeping embrace.

"You're all right," he muttered. "Fully healed. No lasting damage." He pulled away, suddenly. "And Faith?"

"She's all right, too," said Buffy. She frowned. "Wait a minute. How'd you know about the whole TBV beat-up session?"

Giles' eyes subconsciously flicked over to Dawn, then back at Buffy as he realized what he was doing. "I… well, I suppose I sort of…"

Buffy turned on Dawn, her eyes narrowed.

"What?" Dawn protested. "I can't get worried about you, anymore?"

Buffy opened her mouth, but Jack cut in before she had time to retort.

"Can I join in on this passion-party, or did someone forget to put me on the VIP list?" Jack asked. A twinkle in his eye, as he turned to Buffy. "Buffy, right?" He extended his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness."

Buffy shook it. "Welcome to the Hell-Defeating Team."

Then Jack looked over at Dawn. And gave a charming grin and a wink. "And who's your friend?"

Dawn blushed, very deeply. "Dawn," she squeaked, offering him her hand.

Jack took it, his blue eyes shining as they met Dawn's. "Pleased to meet you, Dawn," he said, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Jack," Buffy groaned.

Jack dropped the hand, as if he'd been burned. "What? I was just saying hello!" he protested, automatically. Then blinked, as he looked back at Buffy, a suddenly puzzled expression spreading across his face.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed. "You're just saying hello. The same way I just lightly poke vampires with stakes."

"I was okay with it," Dawn offered.

Buffy turned on her sister. "Dawn," she warned. "No. Just… no."

For a moment, neither of them said anything, glaring at one another.

Willow looked over at Xander. Xander looked back at Willow.

"Okay, then," Xander said, stepping forwards and picking up Giles' suitcase. "Anyone else here in favor of ending some seriously awkward moments?"

Buffy sighed, and decided to let it go. She turned around, and headed towards the car. "Slayer Institution," she announced. "We've got work to do." She glanced back. "And Jack? Seriously. Save the flirting for when the world isn't about to end."

Then rushed off.

Jack blinked a few times, a little stunned. Then picked up his suitcase and, under his breath, muttered, "Whatever you say, Doctor."


	14. Chapter 14

"They've been happening all across the globe," Giles confirmed, back at the Slayer Institution. "Hit and run raids on little towns that are practically defenseless."

"I know," said Dawn. Her hands clenching into fists, as she recalled the memory. "I've seen it. The TBVs go in, ransack the town, burn it to the ground, and leave no one alive."

"Well, no one that fights back," Jack countered.

Everyone stared at him.

"Gillsborough," Jack said. "It's a small town in the English countryside. There were rumors of a ghost sighting. I showed up to take some readings. That's when the vampires attacked."

"So you saw it all go down," Faith said.

"The vampires are only killing the people that fight back," said Jack. "Everyone else, they gather together. Something about 'Farms'."

Everyone looked at everyone else.

"And 'Farms' mean…?" Dawn started.

"Exactly what we all think it means," Buffy cut in. She turned back to Jack. "Okay. Good news for us. If there are 'Farms', there are going to be survivors. People we can rescue."

"Ah, well, actually," Giles said, "it's not… precisely that simple." He reached into his suitcase, and brought out a large stack of books and papers and notes. "You see," he continued, grabbing a set of notes and flipping through it, "there's this artifact called the Likstofalter of Waikon, which I've been researching for some time, now, and it seems to operate as some sort of terribly powerful cloaking device, allowing entire patches of land to be completely hidden to human…"

"It's a perception filter," Jack cut in. "A really powerful one. Insanely powerful. From Torchwood Four. They stole it way back at the beginning of this whole mess, and they've been using it to hide things. The Farms. Their secret base. Torchwood Four. And themselves."

"So no Slayers or scanners or technology would pick them up as vamps," Buffy said. "Got it."

"I believe it is using this Likstofalter of Waiken that these… TBVs…. infiltrated the Coven," said Giles. "And UNIT. And… perhaps even Torchwood."

"No, they had another way in to Torchwood," Jack said. "Torchwood is how they got the perception filter in the first place. But they've infiltrated everywhere else — and, with the perception filter hiding them, no one ever picked up that they were vampires until it was too late." He paused. Then looked around himself. "Actually, I'm surprised they haven't infiltrated this place, yet."

Buffy and Faith looked at one another. Remembering the graffiti.

Jack caught the look. "Please don't tell me they have," he said.

"No," both Buffy and Faith said, at the same time.

Willow hesitated. "If they have… we'd have no idea. Right?" She turned to Giles. "At the Coven. How'd they do it, there?"

"As far as I could see, they'd gotten to one of the members," said Giles. "Sired them. No one else knew, not even myself. Then, one day, I turned up, and discovered everyone dead."

"Everyone… except _you_ ," Willow realized.

Giles blinked. Then pulled off his glasses, and began wiping them with his handkerchief. "Yes, well, I was… a trifle late for that particular meeting." He glanced over at Buffy. "I suppose I can thank your friend Jackie Tyler for that."

Buffy frowned. "Wait, what were _you_ doing with the Tylers?"

"Looking for _you_ , of course," Giles replied. "It seemed the natural place to find you. And I didn't realize you'd already left England a few days prior." He gave a small sigh. "Your Tyler friends are… very spirited, aren't they?"

Buffy noticed the severely rattled look on Giles' face, and guessed what had happened. "Jackie thought you were my dad, huh?"

And probably invited him in for tea, and wouldn't stop talking at him. Which, in Giles' mind, would mean he couldn't leave without being rude, and Giles wasn't usually rude to the non-demonic variety of people.

"Something like that," said Giles. He glanced over at Jack. "Then, of course, the moment I managed to escape — sorry, excuse myself from the pleasure of Mrs. Tyler's company, I ran into this gentleman, over here."

Willow edged a little closer to Buffy, poking her arm. Buffy ignored the gesture. She knew what Willow was worried about. What Willow was trying to point out to Buffy. But Buffy had been aware of the possibility herself for some time, now.

"Who was it?" Willow asked Giles, when it was obvious that Buffy wasn't paying attention to her hints. "I mean, the person who infiltrated the Coven? Do you know?"

Giles said nothing for a few long moments. Unable to look at Willow. "There was one body missing," he said, "when I found the others." His eyes lingered on the floor. Then, in a whisper, "Althenea."

Willow's eyes grew wide, her hands shaking a little at the news.

"Althenea," Buffy repeated. She recognized the name. The seer who'd helped them, back during their battle against the First. The one who'd given them the names of the Potential Slayers, so that they could rescue them from the Bringers.

"I suppose they thought Althenea might be able to see through their deception," Giles muttered.

Willow got up from her seat, a little shaky. "I… just… give me a minute," she said, as she left the room.

Xander hesitated. "I'd better make sure she's okay," he said, running out the door to follow Willow.

Buffy glanced around. And found that, at some point in the chaos, Jack and Dawn had slipped out. And… Dawn and Jack…

Shit.

One more thing that Buffy really, really didn't have time to deal with.

"I'm sorry about that," Giles told Buffy. "I know Willow was good friends with the members of the Coven. I knew finding out would hurt her. But… it had to be said." He put his glasses back on, and stood up to leave.

Buffy caught his arm. "Giles," she said.

He turned, and she caught his eyes with her own. And looked at him. Stared deep into his eyes, just the way she had when he'd been transformed into a Fyarl Demon. Just… searching. Feeling.

She let go.

"I just wanted to make sure," she told him.

* * *

"You're serious?" Jack asked.

Dawn shifted from foot to foot. "I didn't know who to tell," she said. "I mean, everyone's a suspect. But then Buffy said that you couldn't be vampirized, and as long as I know you're not one of the bad guys…" Dawn shrugged.

Jack nodded. Dawn could almost see the thoughts racing through his head, as he digested her information. "Since when?"

"Last month, we had this graffiti incident," said Dawn. "Which caused this place to become, like, complete panic central. Whoever it is — they've been around since then." She glanced back at the way they'd come. "That's how I knew it wasn't Giles."

Jack put his hands into his pockets. "Any suspects?"

"It's not Buffy," said Dawn. "It just… can't be. I'm sure."

"Really?"

Dawn paused a moment. "She… she… I mean, she just… she wouldn't have brought you here, if it was her!" she insisted. "Right? And she wouldn't be so preoccupied with rescuing the Doctor."

Jack studied Dawn, carefully. "You still haven't told her, yet, though."

Dawn fidgeted. "That's… different."

"How?"

"Well, Buffy…" Dawn stopped. Then glanced around herself, and continued, in a low voice. "Ever since Spike died, it's been like… part of her died, too. She's been taking these risks that are… you know. Stupid. Like she's trying to get herself killed. When we found Arlene, Buffy went out and nearly…" Dawn stopped. Then shook her head. "She's my sister. I get what she's doing. First she lost Spike, and now, with the Doctor in trouble…." She sighed. "I just don't know how much I can tell her if I want to make sure she stays safe."

A cough from their right. And Dawn felt her face burning, as she looked over, and knew exactly who she'd see.

Sure enough.

"You know," said Buffy, "I thought you two were going to be all with the smoochies. Not all with the conspiracy theories."

"I was going to find a way to tell you," said Dawn. "Just… not now. You know."

Buffy leaned against the wall. "I'm the Slayer, Dawn," she said. "I have to know these things. It's my job."

Dawn turned on her sister. "No, you're not!" she said. "You're _a_ Slayer, now. There are _tons_ of other people that could do your job! You just won't let them!"

Buffy raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

Dawn stepped forwards. "Why don't you just… move to England or something?" she yelled. "You don't want to be here! You don't have to be here! So just… go!" Dawn threw a pile of papers and files at Buffy. "Find the Doctor! And get lost!"

And stormed off.

Jack looked between Buffy and the retreating Dawn.

Buffy sighed. "Kid sister," she explained.

"Kid or not, she's still right," said Jack. "Everything she's told me makes sense. You've been harboring a spy, here, for the last month. At least."

Buffy seemed vaguely amused. "A spy that hasn't done anything, yet? Yeah. Thanks. I think I can take care of the Evil Mr. Graffiti Artist by myself."

"How do you know the spy hasn't done anything?" asked Jack. "What if this spy's been messing around with your defenses behind your back, or…?"

"Our defenses?" asked Buffy. "Our major defense against vampires is that sign, out in front, that says, 'Private Property, Keep Out.' And that's probably not going to work against TBVs. Aside from our Slayers, we don't have any defenses. We're completely defenseless!"

Jack frowned. "Well, there's got to be some reason they haven't wiped you out, yet," he said. "Dawn's right. The Slayer Institution is their biggest threat, and the fact that they've basically left you alone is… suspicious."

"Maybe the TBVs are still vampire enough that someone has to invite them into a house before they can enter it," said Buffy. Even though that was a stupid thing to say, because these particular vampires hadn't had an issue with that for the last month. "Or maybe…"

She stopped.

Then realized. That none of the Slayers had gone missing, since the graffiti incident. That there had been no actions, no attacks, no assault upon the school since she'd visited Angel. That the vampires had caused a panic, softened the school up, geared up for a major fight, and then… nothing. No attack.

And that made no sense.

Except…

"Oh," said Buffy. She stumbled backwards, her world spinning, a little, but caught herself before she could fall. "Oh."

Jack regarded her, an inquiry in his eyes.

"The Slayer Institution," she said. "We're _not_ a threat. We're… their backup plan."

"How so?" asked Jack.

"Because the TBVs know I'm trying to find the Doctor," said Buffy. "They know I want to get him out. And they know…" Buffy paused. "…what we've got."

Buffy gestured for Jack to follow her, and led him. Through the corridors, down a flight of stairs, and into the basement. She opened the door to a nearby store-room.

"This," Buffy announced.

Jack stopped in his tracks, the moment he saw the TARDIS.

"Oh," he said. Then looked back at Buffy. "If the Doctor ever escaped. They knew he'd come here. For the TARDIS."

"And then their spy could spring the trap," said Buffy. "Catch him, again. Bring him back." She frowned. "Thing is… why did the TBVs wait for me to transport the TARDIS? I mean, they could have taken the TARDIS themselves. Brought it somewhere else — somewhere that _wasn't_ right in the middle of a Slayer Institution. Somewhere they could spring their Doctor-catching trap more easily."

Jack gave a little shrug. "You know what they say about Time Lords and Vampires," he said.

Buffy looked at Jack. Then at the TARDIS. Then back at Jack. Her eyes lighting up, as she remembered — the vampiric fear of the TARDIS key. How Time Lord technology and vampires didn't seem to mesh.

"They can't touch the TARDIS," Buffy realized.

And now Buffy was thinking furiously. Because… whoever the spy was… would know that Buffy would want to rescue the Doctor. Would know that the Doctor would arrive. Would want to get the Doctor alone with him.

And would stay as far away from the TARDIS as possible.

Buffy felt her hands shaking. As she realized exactly who the spy was.


	15. Chapter 15

Razor paced in front of his prisoner. Eyes locked on the restrained form. His every step even, calm, controlled.

"So you're here," the Doctor said. "Must be time for the daily gloat, then."

Razor didn't react to his words.

The Doctor groaned. "Oh, no, don't tell me. You're here to torture me until you can break me, because you're the all powerful Razor, and all will bow down before you and…" He stopped. Then grinned. "Razor. That really is a rubbish name for a vampire!"

"You still believe," Razor said, ignoring his jibes, "that you hold some sort of power over me?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "I know _you_ believe it."

Razor gritted his teeth, but forced back his flare of anger under his normal calm demeanor. No. It was a lie. This alien, this… inferior specimen… held no power over Razor. No power over anyone. He was helpless. Weak. Unable to alter his fate.

Razor would prove that, soon enough.

He snapped his fingers, and Joe — blond, biker-jacket wearing Joe, one of Razor's most trusted inner circle — came over, and handed the item to Razor. Who smiled, as he took it, held it in his hands.

"A present," said Razor. "To you. My Bringer of Death."

The Doctor winced at the epithet, just as he always did. "Present. Can't say I like the present, much," he rambled. "Been thinking about trying the past. Or maybe the future. Anywhere besides here, really. Although, then again, I suppose that, what with the addiction, _you_ aren't exactly enjoying… the… present…"

The Doctor trailed off. As he noticed what the item was that Razor held in his hand.

Razor felt a smile spread across his lips. "Well?" he asked, waving the item in front of his prisoner. "What do you think?"

The Doctor's eyes fixed on the item. "What are you planning to do with that?"

"Kill someone, of course," said Razor. "What else would someone like me want with a gun?"

The Doctor glanced over at Razor. "You don't need a gun to kill someone," he said. "You've proven that often enough."

Razor's smile grew. Because, for once, his prisoner didn't know what he was planning. And Razor truly held all the power. "Who says _I'm_ the one doing the killing?"

Now Razor had the Doctor's full attention.

Razor stepped back, brandishing the sleek black gun in his hands as if it were something amazing and precious, something new that he'd never even considered before. "There was a rumor about you. A rumor that was confirmed, in your UNIT files. A hatred for one weapon — one method of killing — above all others." He raised the gun. "This."

The Doctor didn't answer.

"So I started wondering — why?" asked Razor. "What is it about the gun, as a weapon, that makes you hate it so bitterly? Why do you despise this piece of metal more than, say, a group of vampires determined to obliterate the Earth, destroy all your human friends, and make your life a living hell?"

Once again, no sound from his prisoner.

Razor turned to face him. "But it's not the gun, is it?" asked Razor. "It's what it does. What it represents. Give this gun to someone, and it can turn the most innocent human being into a murderer."

And there it was. That spark of horror, appearing on the prisoner's face, as the Doctor realized where Razor was going with all this.

"And what human being is more innocent," Razor continued, "more corruptible, than a child?"

Now came the moment Razor had expected, when that horror inside the Doctor turned to anger, and he struggled, tried to break free. But couldn't.

"Little boys like to play with guns," said Razor. He stroked the barrel, his eyes fixed on his prisoner. "Don't they?"

"Razor," the Doctor warned. "Don't you dare…"

The smile grew. "Don't _I_ dare?" he asked. He squatted down, so he was at the Doctor's eye level. "But you said. _You're_ the one with all the power. _You're_ the one we're all afraid of. So…" wiggling the gun just out of his prisoner's reach, "if you have so much power over us… make this stop."

The Doctor stilled. Silent for a few moments. Then, "What do you want?"

Razor stood up straight, looking towards his entourage. Letting them see this, letting them understand its importance. "What do I want?" Razor repeated. "I don't know. What do you have to give?" His eyes snapping back towards the Doctor. "Fear, maybe? Obedience? Surrender? Would you be willing to give that to me?"

"Yes."

"Be willing to do anything I asked of you?" Razor inquired. "Even to the point of destroying innocent human lives?"

A slight pause. Then, "Yes."

"Razor," Leandra warned.

Razor waved her away. He was enjoying this. Far too much. "Joe," he commanded.

Joe left the chamber, then re-entered, a moment later, dragging in two frightened, bound and gagged humans — a man and a woman — both trying to protest, trying to insist on something. Their words incomprehensible through the gag, but the Doctor could pick up enough to know who these people were.

And what Razor was going to do.

"You can't," the Doctor said.

"There are so many deaths, every year," said Razor. "Little boys who find guns lying around the house. Decide to play a game. And wind up shooting their friends, or neighbors, or even… their own parents." His eyes glowed with excitement. "Wouldn't it be a shame if these two parents died at their son's hands?"

The Doctor stared at him. "You think a little boy, never having fired a gun before, would actually be able to hit them?"

"Oh, don't you worry," said Razor, "I'll make sure… when that gun is fired… someone dies. Painfully." His eyes glowed, and he whispered, "You know I can."

And the Doctor did. Very obviously.

The Doctor fixed his eyes on Razor. "I told you I'd surrendered," he said. "You've won. Now stop this."

"Have I won?" asked Razor. His eyes narrow, his voice growing cold, as he grabbed at the Doctor, dragging him forwards, so that he was in the Time Lord's face. "Or is that just your latest manipulation? Your latest lie? Your latest way of proving that _you_ hold the power, not me?"

The Doctor gritted his teeth, swallowed his pride, and admitted it. Admitted the truth. "You hold the power," he said. "I'm nothing. No one. I surrender. Now stop this and let them go."

Razor contemplated this a moment. Then nodded, dropped the Doctor to the ground, stepped away from him. "All right," he said. "I believe you."

"Razor, you idiot! It's a trick!" Leandra hissed.

Razor ignored her. "You surrender. To prevent a child from becoming a murderer, you're prepared to give up. Do anything I say. Let me destroy the Earth, and kill everyone you know. And no protest from you."

"Yes," the Doctor insisted.

Razor stood some ways away from the Doctor, studying him. Then nodded over at Joe. "Release the Time Lord."

Leandra tried to surge out and stop Razor, but he held her back. His strength proving to her — and the others — that she was just as weak and helpless before him as the Doctor was.

Joe did as he was told.

(And it was so much more wonderful, watching Joe do it. Because Razor remembered what had happened, when they'd found the Doctor in that LA apartment — hidden from the evil torturing vampires by a kind human family. Razor had seen how the Doctor had reacted, as Joe personally tortured and dismembered every single good-natured human there. Even to this day, there was an extra hint of darkness in the Time Lord's eyes, every time that Joe approached.)

"Now," said Razor, as the last chains were undone, the last iron manacles released, the last set of restraints lifted — save, of course, for the psychic barrier. No use in giving the prisoner the chance to regenerate himself, and kill the rest of them alongside him. "To prove your loyalty. You're going to kill someone." His smile twitched. "Two someones."

The Doctor stumbled to his feet, barely able to stand, and nearly missed the gun that Razor tossed at him. But caught it, at the last moment.

"The gun only works on three people here," said Razor. "Either kill the two humans, and prove your loyalty. Refuse, and turn a child into a murderer. Or…" Razor's eyes glowed. "Kill yourself. Cut off our blood supply. And hope that we haven't become invincible enough to destroy your precious Earth. Hope that the humans can defeat us without you."

The Doctor stared at the gun in his hands.

"Your choice," said Razor.

Feeling the awe and fear of his followers, around him, proving his own power. Because they knew, like him, that any way this situation worked out, Razor would win.

The Doctor just kept staring at the gun. "My choice," he repeated. Then turned to look at the iron manacles, now undone, lying on the ground. His prison — his torment — his Hell.

"I've decided," he said.

Dropped the gun to the ground. And made his move.


	16. Chapter 16

"The spy — it's Robin Wood," said Buffy, as she shut and locked the door to her office. Her soundproof office. And tried not to let any of her inner feelings and emotions about Wood being — actually — dead and gone and vampirized come through. "Got to be. He never comes close to the TARDIS. No matter what. And he's been threatening to get the Doctor alone since he first heard I knew him." She turned back to Jack. "I guess Faith's going to be in for a shock."

"Faith," Jack mused. "Girlfriend?"

Buffy nodded.

Jack got a mischievous smile on his face. "Sleeping with a vampire," he said. "Kinky stuff. Now that's something I'd definitely like to—"

"Jack," Buffy warned.

Jack stopped, giving a sheepishly charming smile. "Whatever the lady wants."

Buffy gave him a hard stare that showed that she really didn't think this was a smiling matter. Not even remotely.

"There's always the possibility that Wood's sired Faith, too," she continued. "But I doubt it. If he's smart, he'll just lay low, make sure no one's suspicious of him. When the Doctor shows up, Wood will make it look like he's doing exactly the same thing he did with Spike — except, this time, when he gets the Doctor alone with him, the other vampires will show up, drag him away, and the Doctor will be back to square one."

"We could always kill…" Jack stopped. "I mean, we could find a way to… _stop_ Wood."

Buffy stepped away from the door. "I'm not the Doctor," she said. "If you can find a way to kill Wood, I'd be happy to let you."

Jack caught Buffy's words. And recognized the problem. Just as Dawn had told him. "You don't know how to get rid of these… TBVs."

"As I said," Buffy replied. "We're defenseless." She went over to her desk. "But at least we know who the spy is. We can use that." She stopped, by her desk, picking up a piece of paper, and examining it. A frown spreading across her face. "Friends close. Enemies closer. That kind of thing."

Jack ventured forwards, and peered over her shoulder. Buffy snatched the paper away, but not before Jack caught the words printed upon its surface. A message from Dawn.

_Army says: Finn's delayed. Still coming._

"Finn," Jack said. And, noticing the look Buffy was desperately trying to hide from her face, asked, "Enemy of yours?"

"Ex-boyfriend," Buffy corrected, shoving the paper into a drawer. She stared at the drawer handle, a moment longer, then slammed it shut. "And, no. _He_ left _me._ " She paused. "I think."

Jack shot Buffy a smile. "Gotta love exes," he said, dropping into a nearby chair. "You know, there was this one time, on the planet Paltropa. I ran into—"

Buffy gave Jack a hard glare. "Not in the mood, Jack." She bunched her hands into fists. "Not now."

Jack looked Buffy over, carefully. "Finn," he repeated. "Finn. Finn." He shook his head. "Nope. Never heard of him."

Buffy said nothing.

Jack leaned forwards, and in a far softer voice, "Wanna tell me what happened?"

"Nothing happened," Buffy snapped. Not even looking at him. "Nothing at all."

"Yeah," said Jack. "Nothing at all. That's why your hands shake every time you hear his name."

Buffy looked down at her trembling hands, and tried to still them.

"Everyone gets scared, sometimes," Jack pointed out. "Nasty breakups can be like that."

Buffy turned, giving Jack a stare that hid a string of smothered emotions. "I'm never scared," she said, "about the past." She looked away. "I'm too busy worrying about the future."

* * *

The vampires all gave Razor the same angry glare, as he walked into the room. And sat down at the head of the conference table, where all the others were already gathered.

"Okay," he admitted to them. "So I miscalculated."

No answer. Just the same angry stares.

"We have further to go before we break him," Razor continued. "That doesn't alter our plans."

"Joe," said Leandra, softly, "is dead."

"And the Time Lord has paid for that," Razor said. "His humans died, horribly. In front of him. Their son…"

"Joe is dead!" Leandra shouted. She jumped to her feet. "Don't you get that? Joe! One of the first to drink the blood! One of our inner circle. He's dead! _Dead!_ "

Razor's eyes narrowed. "That changes nothing."

"It changes everything," Oliver chimed in. "You said we'd be invincible. You said nothing and no one would ever be able to kill us."

"We have raided countless towns, and none have defied us," Razor replied. "We _are_ indestructible. We must be. No one can kill us!"

"The Time Lord sure managed it easily enough!" Leandra said.

Razor didn't answer.

"Leandra's right — we all saw what happened," said Ed. "The Time Lord killed Joe in two seconds. And if it hadn't been for that psychic bubble, keeping him trapped, he'd have killed the rest of us, too."

"And you just let him!" Leandra continued shouting at Razor. "You just let him loose to play your stupid little game, because he made you feel all powerless and unimportant, and you wanted to prove him wrong!"

Razor glared at Leandra.

"What were you expecting?" Leandra snapped. "That he was going to follow one of your 'choices'? You've read the UNIT files! You've heard the legends! That man is dangerous!"

"I can control him," Razor said, his voice low, edgy, and — not as convincing as it should have been. He growled. "I _will_ control him."

A grumble resounded across the room. As the vampires surrounding him lost their confidence.

"I've broken all the others!" Razor insisted. "I can break him!"

"Don't you get it?!" Leandra screamed at him. "The Time Lord doesn't break! He never breaks! Whatever we do to him, whatever we throw at him, he'll never, _ever_ break!"

Razor glared at her. At all of them. His anger simmering through his countenance. His outrage billowing out through his body.

Then he stood up, turned, and went towards the door. "Five minutes," he said.

Leandra stepped forwards, her mouth open, about to shout at him again, but this time, he got in first.

"Five minutes!" Razor shouted. "Five minutes alone with that Time Lord, and he'll be nothing more than the sniveling, worthless creature that he is!"

Then a bang, as Razor slammed the door behind him.

The vampires sat, and waited. As they heard the defiant protests and verbal jabs that had to be their prisoner's, smothered by Razor's muffled yet audible rage. Echoing back through the door. Then the sounds of shouting, violence. A chorus of outrage and shouts and smacks and bumps and jolts. And then… silence.

"Well," said Ed. "He's gone. Who's the next leader?"

Leandra opened her mouth to speak, but then they heard a sound they never thought they'd ever hear. It was… a desperate voice. A pleading voice. A frightened voice.

The voice of their prisoner.

And Razor's cruel laughter.

Every vampire in the room looked at one another, then rose and ran out the door, towards the area where their prisoner was being kept. And they stopped, and stared at the sight.

The once proud Time Lord, looking… quite a bit worse for wear. Physically. Mostly undressed. Ruffled and rumpled and gunky and filthy.

But emotionally!

His eyes were wide and frightened, his entire body was shaking, and he was pleading, pleading for them to leave him alone, to get away from him, to stop.

Razor stood over the prisoner, a smile on his face.

"One broken Time Lord," Razor announced, zipping up his fly.


	17. October, 2004

**October, 2004**

"You can take a break," Angel told Joanna, sitting down beside her lab bench. "You must be exhausted."

Joanna steadied her hands, as she tilted the blood she'd acquired into the beaker. Trying to keep her eyes focused, so she wouldn't spill anything. "I'm fine," she insisted.

"Joanna," said Angel.

Joanna glared at him. "It's _Razor_ ," she said. "Whatever the hell he's doing, you can bet he's not stopping."

"He'll have to," Angel insisted. "We shut down the distributor. He won't be able to distribute the blood the way he's been doing."

"Yeah," said Joanna, not stopping with her work, "because it's obvious, even in the normal, human world. Get rid of one single drug dealer, and poof! Miracle! No more drugs!"

The beaker slipped from Joanna's hands, and crashed onto the floor. She stared at it, as if everything inside of her had just crashed there, as well.

"We're going to find the Doctor," Angel promised. "But you can't do it when you're like this."

Joanna's eyes were still fixed on that broken beaker. On the shards of glass scattered across the ground, the orangey blood dripping past their feet.

"Do you remember," Joanna whispered, "what it felt like?"

Angel hesitated. "Yes," he admitted.

"When every feeling fades away, except… that excitement," Joanna said. "That excitement and happiness and exhilaration you get, when you feed."

"I remember."

Joanna's eyes snapped over to Angel. "Especially when you're young," she said. "Before you reach 400-ish. You want to harm, because it makes you feel alive. You want to destroy, because it proves you're real. You want to torture, because…" she took in a sharp breath, "it makes you feel strong."

Angel said nothing.

"I grew out of the more sadistic stuff," said Joanna. "But I still expected it. From the younger ones. It didn't disturb me. It didn't worry me. I didn't think any of it was wrong." She looked down at her hands. "The Doctor got so angry at me about that."

"And you didn't understand why he was angry," Angel guessed.

"I thought he was an _idiot_!" Joanna agreed. "Not understanding the appeal of going off on a murder spree just to alleviate boredom. Flipping out, when he discovered I sired humans by convincing them to kill themselves, instead of using brute force. And the way he just kept believing, that whole time, that he could show me… it was wrong. Make me feel empathy and compassion towards the human victims."

"But you never did," said Angel. "None of us ever did."

"I knew that, logically, killing humans wasn't in our best interest," said Joanna. "Murder led to humans getting angry, chasing after you with stakes, and… I'd seen way too many fellow vampires die that way. No thank you." Her hands shook, even more violently. "But I never thought any of it was wrong." She looked up at Angel. " _They_ won't think any of it is wrong."

Angel didn't answer.

"You know what Razor's team does," Joanna said. "What they're going to do to the Doctor, eventually. You wouldn't tell your Little Miss Slayer, but that doesn't mean you don't know."

Angel, once more, was silent.

"They can't bite him," said Joanna. "One bite, and he'll be able to regenerate. Kill them all."

"They've been extracting the blood another way," Angel agreed. "We've already determined that."

"But they've still got that instinct!" Joanna insisted. "That desire. They want to bite him, they want to drain his blood, feel the warmth of his life force inside their own bodies, as they kill him. They want that. And they can't get it. Frustration. And we both know how that frustration's going to translate."

Angel said nothing for a long moment. "You don't know for sure…"

Joanna gave him a pointed look, and he stopped.

She reached for another beaker, and started the process again. "I've got Carolyn's notes, now," she said. "And… before I was human… I used to know how to do this. How to make this… Vamp-Away stuff." She shook her head. "There's got to be… something in my head! Some memory the Doctor left intact, or some… procedure I'll recognize, or… anything!" She felt her shoulders slump. "Any way that we can kill them."

Angel took her by the shoulders. "Joanna," he said. "Go to sleep. Now."

* * *

It was starting to be a problem.

Buffy guessed that this was just what Jack did, when he wasn't the man in charge, couldn't do anything to help save the day, but was seriously worried and trying to hide it. He became flirty, charming, insatiable, telling bawdy stories with a hearty laugh and drawing people in. And he was… actually really good at it. Even Buffy had caught herself listening, once or twice. Giggling at the opportune places.

No.

No! That wasn't… she shouldn't… who the hell was she to be smiling?! Buffy could still remember that horrible guilt that had eaten her up, from the inside, back when she'd discovered that the Doctor had been locked up in the Initiative. When she realized that she'd been happy, while he'd been in pain.

Buffy wasn't about to make the same mistake, twice.

If the Doctor was out there, suffering, in pain, hurting and screaming and being unable to stop it — then Buffy damn well wasn't going to feel one single ounce of happiness. And she definitely wasn't going to flirt with Jack.

The other Slayers, however, didn't share Buffy's mindset. Didn't mind taking Jack up on his flirtations. Sometimes… very much so.

"You _slept_ with him?" Buffy cried.

Amanda fidgeted. "Well, he's… kind of… really hot."

Buffy just stared at her, open-mouthed.

"It's not like we're under-age, or anything," Vi put in. "We can sleep with whoever we want!"

Buffy turned on Vi. "You, too?"

"Not at the same time," Vi said, her cheeks turning bright red. She glanced over at Amanda. "But… well… like she said. He's… really hot."

"But… but…" Buffy shook her head. "Can't you _feel_ what he's like? Jack's just… there, and forever, and… _wrong_!"

"Well, yeah!" Amanda snapped back. "Of course we can feel he's wrong! That's what makes it fun!"

Vi giggled, her eyes locked on the ground.

Buffy couldn't believe this. She couldn't believe any of this. The world was ending, they had no idea how to fight back or save people or even find the Doctor, and her Slayer Institution was turning into… the Jack Harkness Brothel!

And as if that wasn't bad enough…

"I know one place you could thrust that stake," Faith said, with a wink, as the two were wrestling in one of the workout rooms.

" _You're_ the Slayer, here," said Jack. "I think a demonstration is in order."

"Love to," said Faith, tackling him to the ground, her own body on top of his. "But I've got a boyfriend."

Jack grinned. "Nothing wrong with sharing."

Oh, great. Thanks, Jack. Great big spy, in the middle of them, and Jack wants to sleep with the guy! Geeze.

Buffy cleared her throat.

Jack immediately stepped away from Faith. "What?" he protested, before Buffy could voice her objections. "I was just getting some vampire-staking pointers."

"Jack," Buffy warned.

"We're just having some fun, B," Faith said. "Chill."

"Chill," Buffy repeated. She could feel herself shaking with anger and worry and… okay, maybe the sheer, repressed terror of the whole situation. "Chill! Thanks so much, Faith. I'll just… chill, while every single human being gets murdered, and the world ends. Is that okay? Or is that not enough 'chill' for you?"

Faith hesitated. Then put up her hands, in surrender. "Fine. Don't chill. Whatever you want, B."

Buffy gave them both a dark stare. Then, to Jack, "Final warning." Then she turned, and left the room.

"Wow," said Faith. "B is seriously…" She stopped, as she noticed that Jack's attention was lingering towards the door through which Buffy had just disappeared. The expression on his face, as if he were trying to see through the walls themselves, and watch Buffy just a few seconds longer.

Faith sighed. "Yeah," she said, turning. "Typical."


	18. Chapter 18

"Please," came his voice — soft and gentle, as always. As Buffy chained him to the wall, over and over again. In her dream. "Just let me go."

A thousand things that Buffy wanted to say to him, a thousand worries and concerns and… fears… that she wanted to blurt out. But instead, she just reached for another pair of handcuffs, and attached them around his wrists.

"You've changed," the Doctor said, as if reading her thoughts. His eyes so sad, lamenting the loss of her old self. "You're cold, now. Icy." He peered at her. "What happened to you?"

"I lost you," Buffy said. Then looked down at the chains in her hands, and knew it was a lie. "I lost _me_ ," she corrected.

"I can help you," said the Doctor. "I can make you better. I promise. You just have to do the right thing. And let me go."

Buffy stared at him, trying to hold back tears. Because she wasn't the kind of person who cried, not anymore. But she… _couldn't_ let him go. She just couldn't.

"They hurt you," she said. Raised up her hand, laid it against his cheek. "They are hurting you. Right now. And I can't stop them."

" _You_ are hurting me," the Doctor said. "Not them. Just _you._ "

"I'm saving you," Buffy corrected, wrapping a chain around his torso. "That's all I ever wanted to do. Just… save you." She dropped the chain, now secured, then stepped in and hugged him to her. "Make sure you never get hurt. Make sure you never leave me."

"Elizabeth," the Doctor pleaded. "Listen to me. They can't reach me. They can't destroy me. You can."

Buffy pulled away. Stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

He struggled against his chains. "You're going to kill me," he told her. "Deep down inside. You're going to destroy everything that's me."

Buffy opened her mouth to speak, but for a few minutes, no words came out.

"But I love you," she whispered, at last.

"Then please," the Doctor pleaded. "Please. Let me go."

Buffy woke up.

* * *

"So," said Jack, plopping down beside Dawn. "Little sis with all the answers."

Dawn felt her face flush. Because… Jack was seriously attractive. And he'd been giving her nods and winks ever since he showed up.

"I'm not… sis," Dawn said. Then realized what she'd said. Stupid, stupid Dawn! "I mean, I'm not little!"

"But you do have all the answers," said Jack. He winked at her. "Smart cookie."

Dawn felt a grin spread across her face. "I'm just… you know. Doing my job, and making Earth safe and… stuff." She hit her feet against the floor. "Just… 19-year-old me. Being all responsible."

Because she had to make sure he knew that she wasn't just some teenage high school student or something. That she was… okay, at least over 18.

Jack's grin slid a little. "Nineteen," he muttered. "Smart. Trouble magnet. Likes wandering off." He winced, then got up. "Sorry," he said.

Dawn jumped to her feet. Oh, God! Had she just said something wrong? "No, it's cool!" she said. "I mean, whatever. It's not important. Unless… you want it to be important! In which case, it is, and…" She cringed, as she noticed his vaguely amused expression. "I'm… sounding like a total idiot, huh?"

"Good thing I know you're not one," said Jack. He turned back to her. "You want me to stay?"

Dawn stared at him. "Uh, yeah," she said. "Basically." She hesitated. "I mean, if you want to!"

"I just thought, with my knowing Rose…" Jack shrugged. Then gave a sheepish grin.

Oh. _That_. Again. Great. Dawn crossed her arms, feeling all of her frustration well up inside of her. "Yeah, and _I_ just think," she muttered, "that maybe people should shut up about that."

"I'm sure your sister loves you very—"

"I said shut up!" Dawn snapped. She stared at him. She'd thought… _he'd_ understand. But, no. Nothing. "Why is everyone so sure that I hate Rose? I mean, come on! I've never even met her! Not really!"

Jack opened his mouth, but words failed him.

"Buffy wants a normal life," said Dawn. "A normal family. And with the Tylers, she can pretend she has one. She totally loves that." She shrugged. "And if Buffy wants to live in a fantasy world, then cool. Go ahead. Whatever. I just…" She took a deep breath. "I just want Buffy to _leave_."

"Leave you alone," Jack clarified.

"No, leave!" Dawn insisted. Why wasn't he getting this? It was so obvious! "You've seen her, in England, right? And you've seen her, here. Notice any difference?"

Jack said nothing.

"She's happy, there," said Dawn. "And here, she's just… bad-tempered, and serious, and cranky, and… you know."

"Yeah."

"This place is smothering her," said Dawn. "She's staying, because she feels like she has to, and… everyone else feels like she has to, too, because when Buffy's not around, nothing gets done. But... she's _dying_ here. It's like… she's chaining herself up to a wall, with more and more chains and padlocks and stuff, and she won't stop. No matter what. Or something." Dawn shook her head. "I just wish I knew a way to show her what she's doing to herself."

Jack nodded. A thoughtful expression on his face.

Dawn blushed. "Sorry," she said, sitting back down again, her hands between her knees. "This isn't how I thought this whole talking-to-you thing was going to turn out."

"Who's Finn?" asked Jack.

Dawn shot her head up. "Riley Finn?" She opened her mouth, then hesitated. "He's… no one."

"Your sister's worried about him," said Jack. He regarded her carefully. "And you don't like him, much."

Dawn made a face. "I don't like people who treat me like a kid," she said. She stared down at the ground, her feet scuffing the floor. "The Doctor didn't treat me like a kid. And, I mean, he's, like, 900 or something. So to him, we're all kind of young and kid-like, right?"

Jack grinned. "You sure don't sound like a kid."

Dawn felt her cheeks go even redder. She glanced up at Jack. "Nineteen," she reminded him.

"Good age to be," Jack confirmed, with a wink.

The thud of the sword inches from his head, as it embedded into the wall, was the first sign to Jack and Dawn that they weren't alone. They looked up, and… oh, great.

"Buffy," Dawn complained. "Couldn't you just let me have some alone-time with a guy without being all trying to kill him and stuff?"

Buffy ignored Dawn. "Jack," she said. "Never, ever — _ever_ — flirt with my sister. Ever. You get that?" She stepped forwards and yanked the sword out of the wall. "Because next time, I won't miss."

Dawn crossed her arms. "I can't believe this!" she said. "You _know_ Jack isn't a demon or a vampire or anything. I'm an adult, he's an adult. We weren't even really flirting! What possible reason could you have for being all super overprotective?"

"Dawn," said Buffy, turning on her, and pointing at Jack, "he's about a hundred years older than you."

"Yeah, and Angel was about two hundred years older than you!" Dawn replied. "So, seriously. What's your problem with Jack?"

Buffy advanced on Dawn, anger radiating through her. "My problem," Buffy snapped, "is that you're throwing away your life, obsessing over some… time traveler that's way older than you, and I'm not going to just wait around and watch that happen! I'm not going to see you fall head over heels for some long-lived, impossible, amazing, gorgeous guy that's just going to run away and leave you some day, even though you've spent three years waiting for him, and a part of you is dead inside because you know he's never coming back for you, and then you find out that some vampires are torturing him and there's nothing you can do, and maybe you can't even interfere because of crossed timelines and not-having-met-you and stuff like that, but a part of you doesn't care because you just want him safe, and I'm not letting that happen, Dawn! Do you get that?"

Dawn stared at her sister. "We… stopped talking about Jack a long time ago, huh?"

A horrible pain appeared in Buffy's eyes, but she fought it down, until it had vanished. She turned, instead, on Jack.

"I've got nothing," she said, her voice low and biting. "No home. No family. No one at all. Except Dawn. Do you get that? So you better not even _think_ about doing anything — and I mean _anything_ — to her. That clear?"

"Completely," Jack said.

Buffy turned, and stormed off.

Dawn looked over at Jack, and noticed the way he was staring off at Buffy. And realized that this whole thing was happening, all over again. Just the same way it had happened with Spike.

"You know," said Dawn, "I've noticed that Buffy only gets _really_ pissed off when the guys flirting with me are actually in love with _her._ "

Jack started at Dawn's words. Then looked over at her. "What?"

Dawn gave Jack a pointed look.

Jack cringed, glancing over at the spot where Buffy had just departed. "She… reminds me of someone," he admitted. "Someone I knew, a long time ago." He put his hands into his pockets. "Someone who left me behind. Just like he left her."

* * *

Once, he'd been Robin Wood. The boy whose mother had been brutally murdered by vampires. The little boy who swore revenge.

Then he had been Principal Wood. Fighter for justice. One of the warriors who stayed behind, despite the danger and the odds, to defend Sunnydale from evil. One of the good guys.

Now, he was this.

There was a part of his mind that remembered he was supposed to be a good guy. Remembered that he'd gained satisfaction and happiness from fighting for the forces of good. He knew all of that. But it felt like such a long way off.

It hadn't been his fault, of course. They'd sought him out. Cornered him. Known his every move. Pinned him to the ground, helpless and struggling, then explained exactly what they were going to do to him. He'd shouted that he'd rather die.

Not that that had stopped them.

Wood stood in the shadows. Waiting. Looked around himself. Heh. Night. Traditional time for vampires to strike. Like he was constrained by tradition and normality.

"Have they learned anything, yet?" came the voice of the vampire that Wood recognized as Oliver.

"Nothing," Wood said. "They're completely defenseless. Buffy's so scared, she's practically spitting fire at anyone that comes near her."

"And the others?" asked Oliver. "In LA?"

"Same thing," said Wood. "They keep working on it, but they just don't see it's pointless. After all. Nothing and no one can kill us. We're invincible."

Oliver said nothing for a long moment. "We're not," he confessed.

Wood hesitated. "We're…?"

"There's been a change," said Oliver. "The Time Lord's been broken. No more contingency plans. We're destroying the Slayer Institution, once and for all."

Somewhere in Wood's brain, he knew he should be getting angry about this. He should be protesting Oliver's decision to destroy the Slayer Institution — should be fighting back, should be striking out. But when he asked himself why he should protest, he came up with… nothing. Nothing at all.

To hunt. To kill. To destroy. It'd make him feel alive, again.

That was all he really wanted.

"When do we start?" he asked, his face morphing, his fangs showing.

Oliver gave him a serious stare. "Once you destroy the only thing they can use against us."

"And that is?"

"The TARDIS."


	19. Chapter 19

"I always thought it wasn't as much fun, after they gave in," Ed complained. He glanced over at the prisoner, jabbering away in that terrified tone of voice. "I mean, look at him. He's just telling us stuff, now. That's not challenging."

"At least he hasn't killed us," said Leandra. "Yet." She hugged her arms, and shuddered, her eyes flicking back to the broken Time Lord. "I don't care what Razor says. He's still dangerous."

"Razor could kill you," Ed reminded her. "We're not completely invulnerable. The Time Lord proved that. If you challenge him, you could die."

Leandra grumbled, but clearly took Ed's point. "If I were still invulnerable," she said, "I'd tell him to his face. That this is a trick. That he's being an idiot. I mean, look!" She pointed over at the Doctor, still chained to the floor, but less securely. "We don't even have a hostage, anymore! And you know that's the only real threat the prisoner ever responds to."

"The prisoner doesn't need threats, anymore," Ed reminded her. "His spirit's broken. He'll do anything we say, tell us anything we want to know." He smiled. "We've won."

Leandra scowled. "The last time we said that," she muttered, "he killed Joe."

Ed didn't answer.

"I say we're invulnerable enough," said Leandra. "We should kill the Time Lord, and get out of here."

"You're afraid of him."

"No," Leandra retorted. She glanced back at the Doctor, again, nervously, then tried to hide the action. "Like you said. He's broken. It's no fun to torture them after they're broken."

"I beg to disagree," said Razor, as he approached. Still wearing that same proud smile that had graced his face ever since he'd broken his prisoner. "He's much more fun to play with, this way." His eyes rested on Leandra. "You've done enough playing on your own."

Leandra got up, her eyes on the Doctor, then turned and left.

Razor regarded her, amused, then turned to Ed. "The moment the TARDIS is destroyed, I want a full attack on the Slayer Institution," he said. "Wipe it out completely. Then we move on to Torchwood Cardiff." His eyes narrowed. "Jack Harkness knows the Time Lord. He could be dangerous."

"So does the Slayer," said Ed. He hesitated, recalling there was more than one of them, now. "The… Summers… Slayer."

Razor laughed. "But our spy reports that she's terrified!" he said. "Her Institution is a joke, her army is weak, and she's running on empty. Summers is not a threat."

Ed opened his mouth to negate this, but decided against it. Better not to antagonize Razor. Not now that they all knew Razor could kill them. "And this… Harkness…?"

"A threat," Razor confirmed, "but I've heard he dies easy." He glanced back at the broken Doctor, giving a little chuckle. "So much better, getting information this way." Then turned back to Ed. "I've told Oliver to deal with Harkness. He won't be a problem for very much longer."

Ed nodded. "And me?"

"The Farms," said Razor. He handed Ed a piece of paper. "These are the solutions to the technical problems you've been having with the security systems. Make sure the Farms are fixed, properly secured, and hidden before our attack."

Ed took the paper from Razor. Glanced it over. The modifications were… confusing. Complicated. Like nothing Ed had ever seen before, or could really understand. But Ed pretended he understood them, completely. After all. If he was considered stupid, and Razor decided he didn't need him anymore… then it was goodbye Ed.

Amazing, how mortality changed everything.

"And singularity?" Ed asked.

"Coming," said Razor. "In good time."

Ed folded the papers that Razor had given him, and tucked them into his jacket pocket. Razor gave a proud grin. He clapped his hands, then turned to the others in the room.

"This is it, people!" Razor shouted. "Nearly time to destroy the world!"

* * *

Joanna was thinking. Head down, her mind engaged, her eyes unaware of her surroundings.

Until she ran right into the person in front of her.

"Sorry," Joanna muttered. Then stopped, as she looked at the woman she'd run into.

An old woman. But strong. With a proud stance, and eyes that shone with determination and strength. She glanced at Joanna, a kind smile on her lips.

"You'll need this," she said, dropping a small stone into Joanna's hand. "Keep it with you. A gift from a friend."

Joanna looked at the stone. A completely small, ordinary looking stone — like the woman had just picked it up from the sidewalk or something. Then looked back at the woman. And dropped the stone into her pocket, without really knowing why.

"Good," the woman said. "But you must promise that you'll tell no one I was here. Tell no one I ever intervened."

Joanna blinked. Then blinked again. Then gave a small laugh.

"You're a nut," she told the woman. And walked off.

The woman's form became vague and shapeless, losing its corporeality, her eyes following Joanna as the human left. "Hope you understand what you wished for, Buffy Summers," said the non-corporeal entity, sadly, as it vanished into midair.

* * *

Oliver waited. And observed.

Harkness was dangerous. That's what he'd been told. Get rid of Harkness — himself. Personally. No use in relying on their spy to carry out an order as important as this.

Thing was, at the moment, Harkness appeared to be speaking with someone. A young girl, with straight brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. Her face looked brave, her eyes determined, yet there was a softness and caring in her every movement that seemed to shine through.

Too bad they weren't taking hostages, anymore. She'd make a good hostage. Just the kind of girl the prisoner liked.

Just the kind that made him really devastated, when they killed her.

Still. Now that they weren't taking hostages, the girl served no purpose. Except that she was in the way of their target. And that was easily taken care of.

Oliver signaled to the others nearby. It was time for an ambush.

And those two were going to die.

* * *

"All I'm saying," Dawn explained to Jack, "is that, when the Doctor eventually comes to pick up Rose and take her across the universe, he'd better be prepared for a serious fistfight with my sister. Because Buffy's not letting Rose go all un-normal and space-travelly without a fight."

Jack gave a soft laugh. "Your sister against the Doctor," he said. "That I'd like to see."

Then he froze. His eyes fixed just beyond Dawn's shoulder. And tugged her behind him.

Dawn spun around, to find a group of vampires — full scale, pointy-toothed, yellow-eyed vampires — had emerged just behind where she'd been standing. Then looked around, and discovered that Jack's noble gesture had been pointless.

Both she and Jack had been surrounded. And neither had noticed a thing.

Jack pulled out his gun. "Any of you lays a finger on her," he warned.

The leader of the vampire group stepped forwards, amused. "That can't kill us," he said. "It's useless against the undead."

Jack regarded the gun. "Yeah," he said, with a shrug. "But I bet it'll still hurt." And fired.

The leader of the vampire group cringed as the bullets lodged inside his flesh. But… as he said… he didn't die. Just shouted a command at the others, who advanced towards Dawn and Jack.

Dawn screamed, as she watched the vampires grab hold of Jack and literally rip him apart. Limbs flying off, head torn from his body, chest cavity torn to shreds.

Oh, God. Dawn knew he was immortal, but… no one was _that_ immortal!

She tried to run, but was grabbed from behind, dangled from the hoodie of her jacket in front of a waiting vampire. Who smiled at her.

"The icing on the cake," he said, and brought her closer, so he could bite.

Then started back, with a scream.

Dawn felt herself dropped to the ground, trying to regain her breath. She… she was alive. Untouched. She could get away! She stumbled to her feet, and tried to escape.

Another hand, grabbing for her, but this one sizzled the moment it touched her chest. The resulting scream matched the first one, as Dawn scrambled away.

"She… she burns!" one of the vampires shouted. "She burns!"

"Then kill her, already!" The vampire leader shouted back. "What are you waiting for?"

Dawn heard the cocking of a gun — oh, God, Jack's gun, probably — and hit the ground, rolling to try to avoid the shots. That's what people did in movies, right? They went down onto the ground and stuff? Except… that the vampires still had her surrounded, and were reaching for her, trying to grab her by her clothing, and there was no way Dawn could escape.

This was it.

She was going to die. She, Dawn Summers, was going to die, right here and now, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. And then Buffy was going to go completely nuts and wind up killing herself, and then the Doctor would probably keep getting tortured by vampires forever, and…

A pair of hands jerked Dawn out of the way, as a new, machine-gun-sounding barrage of gunfire opened on the vampires, from the other end of the street.

"Key," came a woman's voice, in Dawn's ear.

Dawn's brain staggered, trying to digest what the hell was going on. "I… I'm not…"

"Your TARDIS key!" the woman demanded. "Come on! Those vamps aren't going to hang around forever."

"TARDIS…" Dawn reached down. And realized that she was still wearing that TARDIS key the Doctor had given her, so long ago. The one she wore so often, she barely remembered it was there, anymore.

But she took it out, now. And saw that it was glowing.

The woman snatched it out of her hands, and shoved it into a little contraption. "Look away," the woman warned. "This might hurt your eyes."

And pressed a button.

A searing light shot out of the contraption, and the vampires shrieked as they turned and ran away, fleeing as if their lives depended on it. When the light faded, all that remained in the alley was Jack's gun, and his… dismembered remains.

Dawn thought she was going to be sick.

"She okay?" came a man's voice, at the other end of the alley. A voice… Dawn recognized.

"Looks it," the woman replied. "I'll check." Gentle hands turned her around, concerned eyes looking her over. And Dawn suddenly realized that… she knew who the woman was.

And the man.

"But you're…" Dawn glanced over her shoulder, at the blond man advancing towards them. "And he's…"

"Hey there, kid," said Riley, patting Dawn on the head. "Glad to see you made it."

"Sorry we're late, but we first found out what was going on when we were in the middle of the Amazon," the woman that Dawn now recognized as Riley's wife — Samantha Finn — explained. "You've got no idea how hard it was to get here."

Dawn tried to form words, but all that came out was a kind of worried gasping.

Sam glanced over at her husband. "I'll take care of her," she assured him. "You go to the Slayer Institution. Let Buffy know we've arrived."

Riley gave Sam a nod, then slung the gun over his shoulder and ran off.

Sam took the TARDIS key out of the contraption, and handed it back to Dawn. "Thanks for this," she said. "Sarah Jane gave me that tip. Only works when the TARDIS is on Earth. It's a shame the light doesn't kill them, but it usually scares them off at least once. Until they wise up to it."

And then it registered, in Dawn's mind, that Sam had known about the TARDIS key. And known that it would frighten off the vampires.

"But… but you…" Dawn shook her head, trying to clear her brain. "The key. How did you know…?"

Sam grinned. "Let's just say," she replied, "that you and I have a friend in common."


	20. Chapter 20

" _I_ know the Doctor?" Sam asked Buffy. "I'm surprised _you_ know the Doctor! I must have dropped the name only a hundred times last time I saw you. And no reaction from you! At all!"

Well, yeah. Buffy knew that. Because she'd known that whatever 'Doctor' Sam and Riley had been hunting down, back in Sunnydale, he didn't trigger any telepathic light bulbs in Buffy's head, he was selling evil stuff for monetary profit, and he was trying to destroy the world.

Which was kind of a giveaway that it wasn't _the_ Doctor.

"But you carry guns and stuff," Buffy protested. "You're military. You're… you're…"

"And you're the Slayer," said Sam. She shrugged. "It takes all kinds, you know."

Buffy stared. Her mouth open. Then shook her head. "I thought… Riley…"

"Oh, Riley doesn't know," said Sam. She paused. "Or, I mean, he didn't know." She winced. "All things considered, he took the news pretty well."

"Good," said Buffy.

"Especially since it involved confessing about that one time," said Sam, "on the planet Hirath, when I was trying to give the Doctor CPR, and wound up seriously frenching him."

Oh, great. That was all Buffy needed. Murderous Riley.

"So… you traveled with the Doctor?" Buffy clarified.

"Oh, yeah," said Sam. She paused. "I mean, sort of." Her face fell. "It's kind of… confusing."

"Uh huh," said Buffy, with a sigh. "Considering the Doctor's involved, I was expecting that."

"You see, I've got this… biodata problem," Sam explained. "And, before you ask, no, I don't really understand what that means, except that — first off — it's got something to do with a group of Time Lords called Faction Paradox, and — second off — I'm pretty sure I was born at least three times to become three different people."

Oh. Okay. So this was some… Time Lord thing. That had to do with Time Lords getting erased from the universe.

"I think that makes sense," Buffy said.

"Two of those me's were born in England," said Sam. "And one of them travelled with the Doctor for… oh, I don't even know how long! Years! The other one… didn't, I guess."

"I've got an other-self who travelled with the Doctor," Buffy put in. "She turned into a crazy psychotic lunatic, and killed off everyone in her home town."

Sam blinked. "Oh."

Yeah. Good going, Buffy. Great way to get people on your side!

"No, look, what I'm saying is… my other-self," said Buffy, "she's not me. Like, not at all me. And I don't remember what she did. I only worked it out because the Doctor dropped hints, and I guessed."

"But that's just it!" said Sam. "I don't think I'm supposed to remember any of it. I'm the third self. In my mind, I was born in the States, grew up totally normal, joined the Peace Corps, and that was that."

"And then, one day, you just randomly remembered?" said Buffy.

"When I met Riley," Sam explained, "it was like there was some… connection. Something bringing me close to the other… me's. Like there was a bridge between the time streams, and I could see the other side. It took me a while to work out what was happening but I think… there is a bridge out there, somewhere. And Riley had… come into close contact with it, some time in the past." She gave a small shrug. "If it wasn't for Riley, I'd never have remembered the Doctor at all."

Oh. Right. Some connection between the timelines. That Riley had been in intimate contact with? Yep, that would be good old Line-Hopper Buffy.

"Actually, at first, it freaked me out," said Sam. "Remembering things that happened to some other me. But after a while, I got used to it. And now… I can't really imagine living without those memories. I mean, I saw some… really amazing stuff. Incredible stuff. You can't just give up memories like that."

"Wait, so… you like Riley," Buffy clarified, "because when you're around him, you remember the Doctor?"

"I love Riley because he's Riley," Sam replied. "I just also happen to like the benefits I get from sticking around him."

Well. That was poetic justice, if Buffy ever heard it.

"How about you?" asked Sam. "How long did you travel with the Doctor?"

"I didn't exactly…" Buffy stopped. Then hung her head. "He offered to take me with him. And I said no."

Sam stared at her. "Seriously?"

"I was the Slayer," Buffy explained. "I thought… I had a duty to… I don't know, the world and stuff, and I…" She squeezed her eyes shut. "You don't know how many times I've wished I'd just said 'screw it!' and gone with him."

Sam gave Buffy a smile. "You did the right thing," she said. "That takes guts. I mean, even if I'd had a responsibility to the world, I don't think I'd have been strong enough to turn the Doctor down."

Buffy opened her mouth to answer, but heard someone scream, "Jack!"

She and Sam glanced at one another, then both raced into the main lobby area, to discover a completely shocked Dawn, gaping as Jack Harkness shoved his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat.

Riley was staring at him, as if he'd seen a ghost.

"You're… you're alive," said Dawn. She ran forwards, and swept Jack into a tight hug. "I thought you were dead."

Sam quirked an eyebrow at him. "Wait a sec. You're the dismembered guy."

"Captain Jack Harkness," said Jack, to Sam, with a wink. "And who are you?"

Riley, luckily, was a little too dumbstruck to notice the serious flirtation in Jack's voice. Sam noticed, but didn't respond to it, as she eyed Jack, curiously.

"Sam Finn," she introduced herself, shaking his hand. "And whatever your secret is to surviving being ripped apart, I'd like to know it."

"When I find out, I'll give you pointers," Jack assured her.

Buffy walked over to Jack, looking him up and down. Then gave him a small smile, and rested a hand on his arm. "Welcome back to the land of the living," she said. "You okay?"

"Better than okay," said Jack, looking down at Dawn hugging him, Sam looking amused, and Buffy actually smiling at him. He grinned. "If this is the love and adoration I get every time I'm torn apart, I'm starting to seriously rethink the virtues of dismemberment."

* * *

Wood didn't know how to get rid of the TARDIS. It had taken him this long to even get up the nerve to come down here and look at it. The TARDIS' light burned him. Its presence was a vexation on his skin. If he were a normal vampire, he knew, even just touching it would kill him.

But he was not normal. He had drunk the Time Lord's blood. That protected him.

It would be uncomfortable, Wood knew, to destroy the TARDIS. But he had wasted enough time. He needed to make sure the TARDIS was out of there. Gone. Eliminated.

He knocked on its surface, to double check. The echo of wood rang out through the basement. So it really was just a wooden box. Lucky for him. All he had to do was light a fire, and he'd get rid of the ship once and for all.

"As kinks go," came a familiar voice, "doing it against the side of an alien time machine is more Buffy's thing than mine." The woman stepped forwards. "But I'll have a go."

Wood froze, as he recognized the voice. And the woman.

"Faith," he said.

Faith advanced on him, pinning him against the side of the ship, sliding her leg across him, seductively. "So," she purred. "You wanna play the dashing alien? Or should I?"

He remembered that he should like this woman a lot. Maybe even love her. But all he knew, now, was that her body was warm, her blood bursting with life. She would die, and her death screams would be his music, her suffering his warmth.

His face changed, as he prepared to bite.

And then the light at the top of the Police Box flashed. And a horrible burning feeling crept across his spine, right where it touched the exterior of the ship. He was being roasted alive, destroyed, crumbled to ash, and he… he couldn't…

A part of him, deep down inside — the part of him that shone with stolen blood — tried to compensate. Give him the strength he needed to survive. But he hadn't been drinking the blood for long enough… hadn't built up enough immunity, hadn't…

The vampire that had once been Robin Wood screamed, as he crumbled into ash.

* * *

Faith was trying not to act shaken.

"Vamp," she explained to the others, her voice just barely trembling. "Vamp got killed. Dead vamp."

"The TARDIS burned him up," Buffy said, examining the ash. She turned on Dawn. "And you said… your TARDIS key…"

"It only works on the weaker ones," Sam cut in, before Dawn could answer. "I've got a friend, in England — Sarah Jane. She's been working on this for a while, now. She thinks that if they've drunk enough blood, they become immune to TARDIS-light."

"But it still hurts them," Dawn offered. She looked down at the TARDIS key. "Kept me safe. Just like he said it would, when he gave it to me."

"I thought you lost that key back in Sunnydale," Buffy said.

"I've been wearing it," Dawn explained, "ever since you came back to life. Because it goes all glowy, when the TARDIS is nearby, and I just thought…" She glanced away. "You know. You were looking for him, and stuff. And maybe it'd help."

Buffy's expression softened, as she stared at her sister. The hint of a smile on her face.

"Dawn," she said.

Dawn glanced back.

And Buffy swept her up into a hug.

Willow, in the meantime, was examining the TARDIS, carefully. Kennedy standing close by.

"I mean, normally," Willow was telling Kennedy, "I can't really do anything magicky with space stuff. Magic energy's pretty Earth based, and it only works to directly manipulate Earthy things. But… I think this ship's been looking like a police box for a really long time. Because the outer shell has a faint trace of Earthiness on it."

"The outer shell is what destroyed that TBV," said Kennedy. "That's all we need."

"I know!" Willow agreed. "That's what I'm saying. All I have to do is create some kind of… safety zone extending spell, and I can enclose this whole Slayer Institution into a great big TARDIS sealed safety bubble!"

"So we've found a way to keep _us_ alive," Sam clarified, "while the vampires destroy the rest of the world?"

Willow fidgeted. "Okay, so there are still some kinks to work out," she admitted. "But it's not a bad plan. Overall."

"She's right," Riley agreed. "It's a start. And if it's a choice between fighting a battle we can't win against a group of enemies we don't know how to kill, and using the TARDIS to protect us, I'm voting TARDIS."

The others quickly agreed.

And then the basement of the Slayer Institution buzzed into life, everyone rushing around trying to gather ingredients for the spell. Everyone pitching in, helping out, trying to make it all work.

"And if Wood hadn't come down here to destroy the TARDIS and stop us using it, we'd never have known!" Willow mentioned to Xander, as she rushed past. "I mean, how lucky are we!"

Xander stared after Willow. Then glanced back at the TARDIS.

"Lucky," he repeated.

* * *

"Lucky," Joanna said.

As she stared at the evidence before her. As she tried to make it all fit.

The Doctor had escaped, right at the very beginning. He'd outsmarted them, somehow. Gotten out of their clutches. And hid. In the middle of an enormous city, with the vampires still weak enough that they couldn't go out in the sunlight.

They'd still found him.

"They got lucky," Joanna muttered.

And lots of other things were lucky. Carolyn's notes were only here because Joanna had been lucky. Because that stupid little prissy Sam Jones — no, wait, she was married, now, Sam Finn — had shown up, a short time ago, to pay Carolyn a visit, and Carolyn had misplaced her notes. Which is why the vampires didn't find them.

And Joanna had.

"Except no one's that lucky," said Joanna. "Nine hundred years, and I've never met anyone that had stuff like… that happen to them!"

_Sam Jones Finn has remembered._

Joanna started, at the voice, and turned around. Looked about herself. But there was no one there.

"Hello?" Joanna asked.

Nothing.

Joanna scratched her head. Maybe Angel was right about that sleep thing. Her brain was playing tricks on her. And human brains needed sleep.

Joanna gave up, and went to bed.

* * *

"So they've done it," said Razor. His good cheer falling for the first time since his victory over his Time Lord prisoner. "The Slayers have finally discovered how to use their only defense." He turned to Ed. "Tell me you've got another way in."

Ed faltered. "Well…"

Razor gave him a sharp look.

"I did get this idea," Ed said. "About matter transference beams." He stared into the distance. "Funny thing. It just… came to me, all of a sudden. Right around the time our spy must have been burning to death."

"Will this 'idea' of yours get us inside the Institute?" Razor demanded. "Will it make sure we win?"

"It should get us inside," Ed confirmed. "And we'll win, as long as they don't work out what the Time Lord did — about how to kill us. The moment they work that out…"

"If they kill one of us, the others will know," Razor insisted. "We're already approaching singularity. Even the Time Lord can't touch us, when we hit that."

Ed felt a small grin creep up his face. "So soon?"

"It's the beginning of the end of humanity, Edward," said Razor. He licked his lips. "I can taste it."


	21. Chapter 21

"Please," the prisoner pleaded. "Don't! Please, I'll do anything! Just don't… don't use the electricity. Don't!"

Leandra bent down over the terrified Time Lord. "Aw, but I don't want 'anything'," she said. "I'm just enjoying my play-time."

The Doctor glanced over at the lever that controlled the electrical flow, the one that would cause electricity to sear through his body, frying him from the inside out, if it were flipped. Then back at Leandra. Tears appearing in his eyes.

"Anything," he begged. "Anything you want. Just… not that. Anything else but that."

"Anything?" Leandra asked, a small smile quirking at her lips. "Anything at all?" She sidled up closer to him, inhaling his scent, hungry eyes fixed on him.

"I can't stand it," the Doctor told her. "Please. Please. Whatever you want. But not that. Not the electricity."

"What else?" Leandra asked. "What would you do for me? Would you kill for me? Murder for me? Would you sit and watch while I split apart a baby's skull right in front of you?"

He was crying, now. Crying in earnest.

"Mercy," he said. "Have mercy on me."

Leandra jumped to her feet, her good cheer suddenly gone. Mercy? She went over to the lever — the one he dreaded above all others. "Mercy?" she asked him. She yanked it down, and the electricity seared through him, making him writhe and scream. "I have no mercy."

She lifted it up, to give him just enough of a breather that he thought he was safe. Thought he was free. Then pulled it down, again.

"You'll never gain our mercy, Time Lord," Leandra shouted over his screams. "To the end of eternity, this is all you'll ever be. The plaything of the gods!"

And with a final yank up of the switch, she noticed his broken, destroyed appearance, his sobs, his muttered mumblings. And decided that maybe this was not so bad, after all.

She left.

The Doctor waited until she'd gone. Until she was no longer in sight. And then allowed himself to stop the act entirely.

He glanced over at the lever, and gave a tiny, relieved smile. Then shifted so that he could access the makeshift lock pick he'd constructed out of shoelace tips and anything else he could find, nearby, and had concealed within easy reach.

"For a moment, there," he muttered, popping open the lock around his right wrist, "I was worried you'd actually heard the stories of Brer Rabbit."

He popped open the lock around his other wrist, then his ankles, then the rest of the restraints. Then reached inside himself, and accessed the electricity he'd managed to store inside his body. Ready to give the vampires' system the shock of its life.

"Don't throw me into that briar patch," the Doctor said.

Then thrust his head against the edge of the psychic barrier that encaged him, and, gritting his teeth against the pain, he let the electricity he'd gathered rush out of his body, and whip across the barrier's surface.

* * *

"This is bad," said Willow. She'd only just created the TARDIS safety field a week ago, and already she could feel it getting weird. "There's something coming through, Buffy. Something's found a way in."

"I thought nothing could get in!" Dawn hissed.

"The TARDIS is sick," said Buffy. "Panicked about the Doctor. Anything could happen." She grabbed up a sword, as she noticed the transparent shapes appearing before them. The shapes that were solidifying into vampires.

"They're appearing all across the Institute!" Kennedy exclaimed, as she lashed out at a ghostly form, but was unable to strike anything but air.

"Not the whole Institute," said Xander, but whatever he was about to say next was cut off by the rush of terrified Slayers-in-training, flooding into the lobby from the dorms and classrooms.

They were followed, close behind, by the rest of the Institute staff. The non-Slayer-powered staff.

Shouts came from the gathered crowd, pleas and cries and desperate hopes that Buffy could save them. Buffy felt her grip tighten along the hilt of her sword, as she knew that she was screwed.

"Hate to say it, B," Faith told her, her own sword drawn and ready for action, "but there is no possible way we can win this battle. Face it. We're vampire food."

Buffy looked around her. At all the scared and worried faces. At all the people that were relying on her. Then her eyes rested on Xander.

"What do you mean, not the _whole_ Institute?" Buffy asked him.

"Well, they're avoiding the basement," Xander explained.

The basement. Of course. Because the TARDIS was still down there, and the vampires must still be afraid to get close to it. The light would scare them off for a while, Sam had said. Until they wised up to it.

Or…

Buffy turned to Dawn.

"You've got the TARDIS key," Buffy said.

Dawn fidgeted with the key around her neck. "Yeah, but… I mean, if the Doctor knew you were alive, he'd have given it to you, so—"

"No, Dawn," Buffy cut in, the shapes rapidly solidifying around her. "You've got the TARDIS key. And the TARDIS itself is way stronger than any extrapolating spell. Take everyone here, and get them inside the ship. Right now. I'll stay up top and hold the vampires off."

"Buffy…" Dawn protested.

Buffy gave her sister a long stare, and Dawn stood down.

Dawn turned to the others, clearing her throat. "Everyone, follow me!" she shrieked, above the racket of the gathering crowd. Then began to run.

The others, scared for their lives, raced after Dawn.

Buffy felt a creeping, unnervingly wrong feeling beside her, and swung around, sword drawn, to find Jack. She lowered the sword.

"TARDIS," she demanded. "Now."

Jack took out his gun. "Stopped being a coward a hundred and fifty years ago," he told her. "You can thank the Doctor for that."

"If you stay here, they're going to rip you apart," Buffy warned. "Again."

Jack grinned. "Tell you what," he said. "You can kiss me better when I come back."

And then the vampires solidified around them.


	22. Chapter 22

They were strong. Stronger than the last vampires Dawn had encountered. Their hands sizzled as they touched her, but the pain didn't drive them off. Sam's device blinded them, but didn't make them turn away.

Still, Dawn and her group managed to get down into the basement, with minimal casualties.

Dawn ran to the storage room that held the TARDIS, opened it, then raced towards the ship. TARDIS key in hand, she jammed it into the lock. The TARDIS gave a soft, scared moan.

The key didn't turn.

"Come on," Dawn pleaded with the ship, trying the key again. "Open up!"

But the ship must have been sicker than Buffy thought, because the TARDIS wouldn't yield.

A rush of screams behind her, and Dawn turned, to discover a group of vampires mowing through the crowd of humans Dawn had been trying to rescue, the invasion force moving into the basement from the ground floor.

Dawn slammed her hand against a panel of the TARDIS door, shouting, "Open up!"

This time, the key turned.

But before Dawn could get inside, herself — let alone getting anyone else in — she was grabbed from behind and dragged away by a vampire, his fangs by her throat. Her TARDIS key was still in the lock — no protection from it, now. She struck out, but the vampire was unaffected.

"Hey!" shouted Sam.

The vampire spun around, then recoiled as a bullet punctured through his chest, and dropped Dawn. Dawn scrambled away, leaping back towards Sam.

"They're everywhere," Riley said, beside them, gun in hand. He spun around, shooting randomly into the crowd of vampires.

Sam yanked the gun out of his hands. "There are non-vampires in there, too!" she accused. "You'll hit the humans!"

"Those humans aren't going to be alive for very much longer if we don't get rid of the vamps!" Riley retorted, grabbing the gun back.

Kennedy was swinging her sword at the vampire nearest them, trying to protect Willow and Xander. The vampire grabbed the sword from her, and twisted its blade into a knot around Kennedy's wrist. Then tossed her over his shoulder.

She thudded against the far wall.

Dawn grabbed Sam's arm, and tried to pull her back towards the TARDIS. The open door, spilling light into the basement from the console room, was repelling the vampires a little. But it didn't abate the death and carnage around them.

"We've got to get people to the TARDIS!" Dawn shouted at Sam. "We've got to…"

But she trailed off, as all the vampires around them dropped into a sudden silence. Pausing in their actions, as if listening.

In the blink of an eye, half of them disappeared.

* * *

Jack's little coming back to life act _had_ unnerved the vampires. They hadn't expected to see him, again. Or for him to continue to come back, every time they killed him.

That was one point to the Slayers.

(A zillion to the vampires, for getting in in the first place.)

So, yes, Jack's resurrection trick had distracted the TBVs for a little while. But not nearly long enough, as Buffy could see them pouring down into the basement.

She lunged out, trying to stop the rush down towards the others, but the other vampires, getting sick of Jack, had now turned their attention on Buffy, and struck out at her, full force.

Buffy dodged, ducked, and rolled, trying, desperately, to stay alive.

She knew she couldn't kill the TBVs. Could barely even hurt them. But at least she could provide a distraction. Make sure she was strong enough, quick enough, sure-footed enough to avoid their blows, so that at least some were up here, fighting her, instead of down there.

Buying Dawn enough time to get as many people as she could into the TARDIS.

Buffy ducked, dodged, weaved through the vampires, following her every instinct, thinking on her feet, doing her best to distract them and delay them. Except… the weird thing was, they already seemed kind of distracted. Like they could sense something else, going on, something far away, something that worried them…

Then, they all fell silent. And paused, as if listening for something Buffy couldn't hear.

Then half vanished. Just like that.

"Okay, then," said Buffy. She turned to the other vampires. "Anyone else feel like vanishing, or…?"

Then it struck her.

The sword tumbled through her fingers, clanging to the floor. Jack shouted in alarm, as Buffy doubled up, her hands clutching her head, her pulse racing, her breath coming rapidly.

It was like a thousand needles stabbing into her mind, all at once. No, more like… she'd been plunged into icy cold water! She struggled, tried to claw at the sensation, fight against it. But it swallowed her up, in an instant, transporting her to…

_A swordfight. Buffy could see a swordfight in front of her. No, not see, exactly, she could… know a swordfight right in front of her._

_The same way she knew the identities of the two men fighting it._

_The man with sleek, combed back salt-and-pepper hair, beady black eyes, and a cruel, smug smile on his face — Sebastian Grail. An immortal man, invulnerable to all harm, who had grown twisted and evil over the centuries._

_And the other was herself — but not herself. The body whose eyes she was peering out of. The body attired in a green frock coat, with shoulder-length, chestnut colored wavy hair._

_She was looking out through the Doctor's eyes._

_Sebastian sliced at the Doctor, taunting him, mocking him, shouting at him to surrender. Buffy could feel the sting of every blow of Grail's sword, biting into her own body. And then, without warning, the Doctor slashed back._

_Sebastian Grail cried out, clutching at his arm._

_"You… you only touched me," Grail protested, "but… it burns!"_

_"It sucks the alien energy from your body, Grail," said the Doctor, raising his own sword in his hands. "It's a rustless weapon. The ancients knew what they were talking about. This is where the pure iron myths came from."_

And in a flash, Buffy was back. Back in the real world. The message over, the pain gone, the moment of interference done. She glanced around herself, and realized that only a single second had passed, on the outside.

One second.

All Buffy needed.

Buffy kicked away the steel sword she'd been using, and grabbed one of the pure-iron swords that hung on the walls of the Institute as decoration.

She thanked her lucky stars that Dawn had gotten seriously bored, a few months ago, and had started sharpening all their display swords. Even though Buffy had yelled at her for doing so.

But Buffy had been wrong. Because now, thanks to Dawn, Buffy had a weapon.

(Just like she'd wished for, from the Doctor-Protecting Super Entity. A weapon that could defeat the vampires. And an army with which to wield it.)

One of the TBVs lunged at her, but Buffy darted out of the way. Pure iron sword in her hand, she slashed at the vampire, almost missing him, but still managing to scrape his arm.

He hissed, yanking the arm away. His eyes shocked. Scared. Worried.

It had hurt him. The weapon had hurt him. _Really_ hurt him, in a way he hadn't expected. But… no celebrating yet, Buffy. After all, she couldn't just start striking at random. It was a pure iron sword — against a vampire's thick skin, Buffy knew she'd only get one or two hits at the most.

Buffy circled the vampire as the vampire circled her, both eyeing one another. Then the vampire rushed at Buffy, hunched over so she couldn't strike the heart as easily. Buffy spun out of the way, then leapt on his back, and in one fell swoop, severed the vampire's head from its shoulders.

The vampire turned to dust, and Buffy thunked down onto the ground.

The moment Buffy's vampire dusted, every other vampire around her froze. No, every other vampire in the entire Institute froze. The vampire Buffy had just dusted hadn't made a sound — there had been no way the others would be able to tell. And yet, the moment it happened, they all snapped their heads around to stare at where the vampire had once been, their fallen colleague. And Buffy could recognize the look in every one of their yellow eyes.

It was fear.

As a group, the TBVs touched a button mounted on their belts, and vanished into the air.

Buffy grabbed at the newly-resurrected Jack, gasping back to life. Yanking him up off the floor, as he stumbled after her, trying to regain his footing as they both ran.

"They're gone," Jack gasped. He managed to regain his footing, then glanced at Buffy. "What did you…?"

"Explain later!" Buffy shouted back, as she emerged into the area where the other group had been ambushed.

There were bodies everywhere. Slayers wounded — dying or already dead — and others, normal human employees, struggling right alongside them.

Faith staggered forwards, looking pretty beat up, but still able to stand.

"Found out how to kill them," Buffy said. "Doctor told me. Telepathic message." She raised up the sword. "Pure iron sword."

All hope in Faith was extinguished, the moment she heard the solution. "You're joking," she said. " _Pure iron_?"

"Don't knock it," Buffy said.

Faith grabbed the blade from Buffy, staring at it. It had been bent, under the force of Buffy's blow, at a 30 degree angle.

Buffy grabbed it back, and did her best to straighten the blade.

"I thought pure iron swords didn't work," Dawn ventured.

"They'll have to," said Buffy. "We're not done, yet."

Faith looked around at the others. Then back at Buffy.

"The Doctor told me one other thing," said Buffy. "And I need everyone who can still stand to grab a pure iron sword, and come with me."

"There's no way we have that many pure iron swords just… hanging around!" Kennedy insisted. "They _don't work_ , Buffy. That's why mankind stopped using them, the moment we invented steel."

Buffy remembered the wish she'd made to that nameless Doctor-Protecting Entity. The one who altered the past, to give her what she wanted in her future.

"I've got a feeling," said Buffy, turning, "you'll find enough."

Jack caught up with Buffy, as she walked to the front lobby. "The Doctor. What else did he tell you?" he asked.

Buffy glanced at Jack. A genuine smile on her face, for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Where he is," she replied.


	23. Chapter 23

"What do you mean, revolting?" Razor shouted. "They can't be revolting! They are cattle! Sheep to the slaughter! They are…"

"They're all fighting back!" Oliver retorted. "Every single Farm, across the world. The humans are fighting back."

"Then kill them!" Razor commanded.

"They're using our own security systems against us," Oliver said. "They can't kill us, but they can overpower us. And they know we've taken most of the guards off security to attack the Slayer Institution. There's no one left on duty."

Razor turned to Leandra. "Reinforcements," he demanded. "I want half our army redeployed to the Farms at once!"

Leandra issued the command. "On their way."

"And tell them to—"

Razor stopped, as all the lights in the compound flickered. As all their machinery hesitated, just for a moment, then surged back to full power.

"What the hell…?" Ed said. He checked a few pieces of machinery, then sprung back to his feet. "Generators. I've got to check…" He raced out of the room.

Razor's face went red, his anger venting through the entire room. "I want those Slayers dead, you hear!" he shouted. "I want this world defenseless before me! I want these humans to know that they're nothing to us, nothing but cattle and…"

A shudder passed across the vampires, as they felt the echo of death resonate through them. As they knew — with a sudden, horrifying truth — that the Slayers had discovered how to kill them.

And in a flash, Razor's army fled.

"The Slayers… they worked it out," Oliver said. "How could they possibly…?"

Razor turned, and stormed out of the room. His footsteps angry, his eyes blazing, his entire concept of the world shattering before his eyes. Because there was only one person who could have done this. One person. And Razor had been stupid enough to think he was broken.

The Doctor began babbling the moment the vampires entered the room. Pleading with them, acting all scared, crying, even. Giving them what they expected. Exactly what they'd wanted.

And Razor had been stupid enough to fall for it.

Razor stomped down on the prisoner's arm, so that he gasped in pain and fear. No, wait — fear? Ha!

"You can cut the act, now, Time Lord," Razor growled. "We know."

In an instant, every inch of fear and horror and brokenness fell away, replaced with that familiar arrogance the Doctor usually possessed.

"Sorry," he said, the hint of a smile on his lips. "Your perfect world not quite turning out how you planned?"

Razor reached down and grabbed the Doctor up towards him, the new steel restraints creaking against the Time Lord's arms and legs, a spasm of pain flooding through the prisoner's eyes — just for a second.

"What have you done?" Razor demanded. Then, louder, in a shout, "What have you done?"

The Doctor grinned. "In a nutshell," he explained, "I've freed all your prisoners, started a few riots, given a few key bits of information to the right people, and… well, all in all, I've pretty much destroyed your plans and toppled your empire. All without moving from this spot." His smile grew. "Sometimes, I'm so brilliant, I impress even me."

"You will suffer for this, Time Lord," Razor warned.

"Actually, not planning on sticking around," the Doctor said. The restraints all clicked off, in unison, and he rolled out of a startled Razor's grip, the pre-loosened blood tubes coming away in an instant. "It's been an experience. Not a pleasant one, albeit. But it's over, now. Time to get going." He glanced at Leandra, his eyes growing dark. "And, when my friend shows up, you'd better think twice about 'mercy'. Because you're going to need it."

Then, summoning up all the energy he had left in his tired, blood deprived body, he rushed for the exit.

Oliver dove forwards, wrestling the Doctor to the ground. "Got him!"

"What's the point?" Leandra snapped. "We're all going to be dead, soon, anyways! The Slayers know where we are, and they know how to kill us! They're on their way, right now!"

"Start up the contingency plan!" Razor demanded.

"We dismantled the contingency plan!" Oliver snapped. "Remember? You said the Time Lord was broken, and we didn't have to worry!"

"Then go to the backup contingency plan!" Razor roared.

"There _is no_ backup contingency plan!" Leandra shrieked.

Razor stared at the area around him. As his plans fell to ruin. As his empire was destroyed before it even began.

"Wait!" called Ed's voice, behind them.

They all spun around, to discover Ed, standing there, an excited look in his eyes.

"You can invert the entire matrix structure of the perception filter, using the psychic field dampener built into the psychic bubble controls!" he told them. "It will transport us away from here, and ensure that they never find us again. Ever!"

"Then do it!" Razor snapped. "What are you waiting for?"

"Leandra," Ed instructed, pointing at a control on the machinery surrounding the Doctor. "Flip that red switch. And Razor, press the blue button, three times, one second apart. Oliver, cut the green wire the moment Razor pushes the button the third time."

"And what'll you be doing?" Razor retorted.

"Do you want to die?" Ed demanded. "Just do it!"

They all three jumped to their feet, following his instructions, doing exactly what he said.

The Doctor, woozy from blood loss and tired out from his last burst of energy, managed to raise his head. And caught sight of Ed, at the far side of the room.

He blinked. Then blinked again. "You… Ed… but you're supposed to be… checking the generators…"

"Sleep, now, Doctor," said Ed, approaching him. "Slip into the land of nightmares. The darkness and despair of your own mind. Slip into the darkest dream, the most hopeless memory of war and death and devastation, and know… that you're causing it all over again."

The Doctor's eyes drooped, as he struggled to stay awake. But couldn't. Ed extended his hand above the Doctor's head, and the Doctor, with a final forced, "Who are…?" collapsed upon the ground, unconscious.

"You got away the last two times, Doctor," Ed whispered, crouching down beside him. His hand dipping down, as if to touch the Doctor's head, but falling right through it, insubstantial. "You won't be so lucky again. The moment is coming — the moment this world will fall. All worlds will fall. You will give in to me, and you will become darkness."

Then there was a violent shaking, and a flash, and in an instant, everyone and everything in the vampire's secret lair had vanished.

* * *

Buffy stared at the empty hideout. The basement where she could still see traces of blood — mostly human, but with enough traces of that reddish-orangey kind that Buffy knew she'd been right. The Doctor had been here.

And she'd missed him.

"Damn it!" Buffy shouted, as she threw her sword down. The sound resonating across the empty chamber.

"Buffy," said Sam, approaching. "We'll find him. Promise. I've seen him out of way worse scrapes than this."

Buffy stared at the empty area around her. As if she could wish everything and everyone back. As if she could wish the Doctor free.

"Buffy?" Xander asked, as he took a tentative step forwards.

Buffy ignored him, staring up at the ceiling. "Mr. Nameless Entity Protector Thing!" she screamed. "You promised! You promised me I'd find him! You promised…!"

Buffy trailed off, as she caught a tear running down her cheek.

"You promised," she whispered.

Dawn put an arm around Buffy's shoulders. And caught her sister, as she burst into tears, and crumbled into Dawn's arms.


	24. November, 2004

**November, 2004**

.

"It's coming," said one to another. "We know that already. We don't know where or when. But every precaution must be taken."

"Even this precaution?" the second asked.

"Even this one."

"Buffy—"

"Will find him, of course. In due time. After all, she must be there, in the end. By his side. So he can choose."

"And we can prove our case. Of course." Then, with some hesitation: "She will destroy him, you know."

"Unfortunate. Regrettable. But unavoidable."

"And by destroying him, she destroys herself."

"She has linked herself with another timeline. You know what that means. In any timeline, in any set of circumstances, the universe will work to ensure the outcome remains the same. If Buffy Summers meets the Doctor, she must destroy him. Destroying herself, in the process."

"A tragedy."

"But one we must take advantage of. Buffy Summers' temporal nature allows us a loophole in the contract."

"The other party will try to stop us."

"The other party can do nothing. He is restricted by the temporal laws of this physical universe. For him, Buffy has always done this, will always do it. Nothing can change that."

A pause. Then, "And if he agrees, in full, to our terms?"

"Then we stop."

"But he won't?"

"Not if he's done what we think he's done."

"In which case, we continue on to the critical point. Offer the Doctor his choice."

"Knowing the Doctor's nature, the outcome is inevitable. Either way, we win. The other party knows that."

"Unfortunate. But for the best. After all, if it turns out to be true, if our suspicions are correct..."

"Death is coming. Death for all. And that would change everything."

* * *

Faith threw the sword down onto the ground. "Piece of shit!"

"It's the only way to kill these things," Buffy reminded Faith, handing her back the pure-iron sword. "We've got to practice."

"Oh, great!" said Faith. "So the only way to kill these vampires is to cut off their heads using a sword that _doesn't work_!" She knocked the sword back out of Buffy's hand. "What else you got, B? Wanna try chopping off their heads using an axe of solid gold?"

"I made a pure iron sword work," Buffy said. "It's not easy, but it's possible."

"Look, Buffy," Kennedy cut in, approaching the two of them. "You got us out of our battle with the First alive, and we're all grateful for that. And then you got these TBV things to stop killing us, and we're pretty happy about that, too. But… Faith's right." She raised up her own pure-iron blade. "This sword is a piece of shit."

"Armies used to use them, way back in the iron age," Dawn chimed in, stepping up behind Buffy. "They're not as useless as a gold axe or anything."

"Against the vamps' thick skin, in the hands of Slayers using Slayer-strength?" asked Faith. "The most you'll take down with this kind of sword is one vamp. Then — chances are — the sword'll be dull, bent out of shape, and not useful for anything else." She waved the sword in front of Buffy. "One sword per vamp. Against a global army! It's like a joke!"

"We had surprise on our side, this time," Kennedy agreed. "Next time, they'll be ready for us. They're not going to run away after we've just killed one."

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but just then, the door to the training room burst open, revealing the smiling faces of Jack, Sam, and Riley.

"Tons of human 'Farm survivors'," Sam reported. "Shaken up, fearful, and basically all homeless, but all alive and pretty much unharmed."

"The US is setting up a top-secret refugee program for them," Riley added. "They'll get the help they need."

"Wait — that whole Farm Riot thing turned out to be real?" Buffy asked.

"No more Farms," Jack agreed. "At least, none that we know of. No more ready blood supply. Time for the vampires to go on the defensive."

"Defensive," Faith scoffed. Then muttered something about pure-iron shit under her breath.

Buffy studied the three people she'd sent out to investigate, carefully. Trying to work out how they could have pulled it all off. "Okay, I'm stumped," she confessed. "The three of you helped liberate a ton of Farms, all across the States. In an hour. I've got no idea how you could do that."

"UNIT?" Dawn proposed.

"We had some help from them," Sam agreed. "The uncompromised UNIT teams, anyways. But we also picked up some friends."

She glanced over her shoulder, as a group of soldiers marched through the doors. All attired in US military combat gear, armed to the teeth, with determined looks on their faces.

"Graham," Buffy recognized. She glanced at the others, and began to recognize them, too. Not every single person, but most of them. Enough for her to understand what was going on. If not why. She turned back to Sam. "The ex-Initiative guys?"

"We were all supposed to arrive together," Sam admitted. "But I got… impatient. And went on ahead."

"American citizens were in danger from a supernatural threat," Riley said. "The army called in the special forces. There are more, still out in the field. Helping the refugees."

Buffy eyeballed the team of soldiers in front of her. Yes, she remembered what had happened in the 39th century, and she knew it was stupid and irrational of her to distrust these soldiers simply because of who they were. But… trusting IPSA was kind of different than trusting a group of soldiers who, a few years earlier, had locked up and tortured the Doctor themselves. Personally.

And, while the special forces that Riley was talking about had way more people, most of whom _weren't_ Initiative survivors — that didn't alter the fact that the team that had come to the Slayer Institute was made up, almost entirely, of ex-Initiative employees.

Sam looked between Buffy and the soldiers, a little surprised that Buffy wasn't completely thrilled to get reinforcements. Apparently, Sam hadn't been the only one keeping secrets about the Doctor from her spouse.

"They know the Doctor, too," Sam started. "They wanted to…"

"Yeah, I know they know the Doctor," Buffy cut in. "I also know _how_."

Graham glanced towards Sam, whose face had grown increasingly puzzled. "It's okay. I can explain." He looked back towards Buffy.

Buffy stepped over to Graham, and asked, in a low voice, "What are you doing here?" She narrowed her eyes. "Specifically, _you guys_?"

"Last time, we stood by and did nothing," Graham explained. "Nothing to help the Doctor. Nothing to stop Professor Walsh. Nothing to prevent Adam from destroying us. And we paid the price."

"And now your orders are to stop the TBVs and rescue the Doctor," Buffy said. "Great. Thanks. And what happens when some higher-up jerk decides the Doctor's useful, and not a real person, and your orders change? What about then?"

Another soldier stepped forwards. "Miss Summers," he announced. "The Doctor saved my life, in the Initiative. Countless times. I won't forget that."

"And we're not going against our oath," yet another chimed in. "That's why we came here, when the others went off to help the refugees."

"After the Initiative fell, every survivor swore an oath," Graham explained. "We all promised that we'd do whatever it took to make sure that what happened in the Initiative never happened again. None of it."

Sam turned to Riley, hands on her hips, eyes demanding an explanation. Riley, very obviously, wasn't intending to give her one.

"If the Doctor is being tortured, and is unable to escape," Graham continued, "then we must rescue him, and halt whatever plan involves his confinement."

Buffy hesitated. Glanced over at Jack, who was grinning from the sidelines. "You believe them?" she asked.

"Can't argue with a man with an ass like that," Jack pointed out.

Graham tensed, a little, his face carefully blank. Buffy smacked her head with her hand.

"Okay," she said. "Fine! I believe you want to help the Doctor! Let's just… stop going against every 'don't ask don't tell' rule in the military handbook, okay?"

Faith, coming up from behind Buffy, crossed her arms, and gave them a challenging stare. "Help us, huh?" she asked. She turned to Buffy. "You expecting those guys to fight unkillable vamps with swords that don't work, too? Or is that just for the Slayers?"

Graham glanced over at Riley, hoping for answers.

"Buffy's figured out that the only way to kill the TBVs is using a pure iron sword," Riley explained.

"It sucks the alien energy from their bodies," Buffy put in. "They're being kept alive purely due to an alien influence. Pure iron stops the alien influence just long enough to stop them from growing back body parts. For a little while. Then we can kill them."

"Aside from the fact that the swords don't work, it's a completely reasonable solution," Kennedy added.

Jack fixed his eyes on the pure iron sword in Buffy's hand, amusement dropping from his features. For a moment, he looked — old. Really, really old. And so tired of dying and coming back to life, over and over again.

"Sorry," Buffy said to Jack. Because if what she'd been told about Rose bringing Jack back to life was true, then there was nothing alien about Jack's constant resurrections. And Buffy doubted that pure-iron would be enough to combat Time itself. "Wouldn't work on you."

Jack blinked, then forced a grin specifically designed to hide all traces of disappointment. "Guess you're stuck with me."

Buffy looked from the pure iron sword to Jack. Then back again. And it hit her, all at once, that she'd been afraid that Jack would try it. That the pure iron would work. That Jack might actually die, and be gone forever.

(Just like Spike.)

She met Jack's eyes. And really meant it, when she told him, "Good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I should explain some things about the conception of this story, which might make a lot of things about the whump in here clearer.
> 
> I've gotten a lot of people reviewing, saying they love the story but hate the whump. I can understand why. There's a lot of whump and it's not very pleasant. Maybe explanation will help.
> 
> When I first came up with the idea for Adventures of A Line Hopper, I came up with the Line-Hopper idea, first, but had two different avenues I felt I could do. One was the Watchers Council getting their hands on the Doctor, and the other was vampires.
> 
> The idea was that Buffy first meets the Doctor when he's just escaped from the vampires, and is barely able to move. Buffy, seeing someone in trouble, tries to help. But is thrown because he knows her and she doesn't know him. The distraction costs her her advantage, and the vampires catch up and take him back. The rest of the story would be her trying to figure out who he is, how he knows her, what his role is in the vampire invasion thing, and how to get him out.
> 
> Then I came up with the idea of Omega and the First, and that was obviously way better. So I made that my Big Story #1 idea, and the vampire story Big Story #2 idea.
> 
> This series was only supposed to be three stories, when I started writing it. That's what you have to keep in mind.
> 
> My plan was to have 2 long stories and a short one. I'd write "Don't Be," showing what happens when the good guys get their hands on the Doctor. Then "Not a Sword", to explain the Key thing. And, lastly, I'd write "Bringer of Death" as a contrast to "Don't Be", just to show that, actually, the Watchers Council aren't as bad as you'd think.
> 
> Then I wound up stripping away large chunks of "Don't Be" that didn't work, and needed more stories to explain the backstory I left out of "Don't Be."
> 
> My original conception of "Bringer of Death" involved almost no Doctorwhump at all! Same plot, but you don't see the Doctor getting tortured until the end.
> 
> It didn't work.
> 
> Like, _really_ didn't work.
> 
> Take away the Doctor's point of view, and it feels like the Doctor's just sitting around not doing anything. Which was so not him. He has to always be planning, always be thinking, always be trying to make this work to his advantage. Plus, I was missing an entire interplay between him and Buffy, which you'll read more of in the November, 2004 section.
> 
> So I realized that I had to beat up the Doctor, and I had to make it worse than anything I'd done before.
> 
> At which point I basically decided that I didn't want to do it. Didn't want to write it, didn't want to post it, none of it. I stopped writing "Bringer of Death", and tried to figure out some way to make the entire arc work without having this story in here, at all.
> 
> "Nothing" was the result.
> 
> "Nothing" is me trying to get out of writing this story. So if you think there are a lot of similar elements between the two, then... yeah. There's a reason.
> 
> There's a cut scene from "Nothing" where the Doctor explains to Marianna exactly what happens at the end of "Bringer of Death". A scene I cut because, basically, it didn't work. There was no way around it, I had to write "Bringer of Death."
> 
> By the end of writing this, I decided the following.
> 
> First, you need the whump in this story because it makes the story work. All sections, all characters, all everything. If you don't have it, the story falls flat on its face.
> 
> Second, I really made sure that every single whump scene in here absolutely _needs_ to be in here. They all do pretty much triple duty in terms of plot, character, etc. (Except... for one scene, coming up shortly, which is only there to hint at something else that comes up at the end. I just can't make that one do triple duty. Sorry.) If I took any of them out, the story just wouldn't work.
> 
> Third, while writing this story, I, personally, found it seriously depressing. This story was supposed to finish the series, but it was just such a downer that I said, "Screw it! I'm writing another story!"
> 
> So, yes, there is another story, after this one. "Happy Endings". It's funny and intriguing and chalk-full of action. And I, personally, think it's the best of the series.
> 
> (In fact, I liked it so much... I've actually continued writing Buffy/Who crossovers, beyond that point. Latest story sees the introduction of Ianto and Myfanwy to Torchwood Cardiff.)
> 
> Hope this helps a little! And, once again, sorry about the whump.


	25. Chapter 25

"I'm starting to like the begging," Leandra crowed at the prisoner, as he winced in pain. "Begging us to hurt you. You're not a masochist. So maybe — it's that guilty conscience of yours, telling you that you deserve everything we're doing to you." She placed the hot poker down on his chest — for just enough time that he could feel every bit of it, but not for long enough that it would cause lasting damage — then lifted it away, again. "What have you done, Time Lord, that weighs this much on your conscience?"

He panted, trying to catch his breath. Then, in a weak voice that attempted but failed to sound brave, light, or unaffected: "Trying to convince me that living without a conscience is better, then? Without a soul? I should introduce you to the Cybermen."

Leandra raised the poker, again. "You begged me to do this to you," she reminded him. "Every ounce of pain you feel — you brought it on yourself."

The Doctor glanced over at the restrained hostage, at the other end of the room. Whatever this one's name was. Then back at Leandra. "You never had any intention of harming Jessica at all. You only threatened her because you wanted me to beg you not to hurt her."

"I wanted to have fun with one of our pets," Leandra replied. "It didn't matter which one. The lion or…" glancing at the hostage, "the pussycat. They both roar out their pain the same way."

"Really?" sighed the Doctor. "The lion or the pussycat? Did you steal all your worst excuses from the evil-villain-cliché wiki?"

Leandra felt her grip tighten around the poker. "You think we act purely out of fear?" she asked, through her teeth. "Do you know how many humans we've taken prisoner? Tortured and torn up and broken? They were nothing — weaklings! Worthless! But we destroyed them, and we enjoyed it." She gave him a cold smile. "Loved every single minute of it."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Others," he muttered.

"Many others," Leandra agreed. "Through the decades. We're not afraid. We are the top rung of the food chain. The ones who should rule. The ones who should get anything we want. We are vampires. We inspire fear in all mortal creatures, because we are supreme." To prove her point, she hissed at the hostage human girl, who shuddered back.

The Doctor considered this. "Interesting" he said.

Leandra snapped her head back to him. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," the Doctor insisted. His brow creased. "But… tell me, Leandra. Really. Been feeling a little… off, lately, when your daily dose of Time Lord blood comes too late? Dizzy spells, cravings, nausea?"

Leandra's eyes darkened. "Vampires don't…"

"But _you_ do," the Doctor cut in. "Withdrawal symptoms, when you don't drink quite enough of my blood, or wait a wee bit too long before drinking it. You get sick. _Sick_. That sounds almost… human of you, don't you think?"

"Leandra!" the voice boomed from the background.

Leandra turned, to find Razor and all the others — an entire group of vampires surrounding him, their hungry eyes fixed on the prisoner, their hands twitching in anticipation.

"He only speaks to you to distract you," Razor pointed out. "Would you rather listen to the insane ramblings of a prisoner with no hope of escape? Or would you rather have your fun?"

Leandra tossed the poker away, when she saw what the other vampires were carrying. And knew what it meant.

"Is it time?" she asked, trying not to give in to the eagerness that was clawing at her insides.

Razor's eyes landed on the Doctor, who'd also noticed what the vampires were carrying. He'd gone very still, his face turning pale, and Leandra could smell the sweet scent of horror the prisoner was emitting into the air.

"No," the Doctor told Razor. "I won't."

"Then your newest human hostage dies," Razor replied. "Or are you finally admitting that your own pride is worth more than a human life?"

"Please, please, just do it already!" one of the vampires in the entourage begged Razor. "I don't want to wait."

The other vampires joined in, their voices pleading with Razor to do it — carry out what he'd threatened, what they'd all been waiting for, since the last time they'd gotten the chance. What they wanted, so very, very much.

The Doctor looked back at the human hostage. She was struggling in her bonds, trying to see what was happening. Trying to understand.

"What… what are they doing?" the human asked. "What are they talking about?"

The Doctor turned back to Razor. "And if you don't do it to me," he said, "I suppose you'll do it to Jessica, instead? Then kill her, in front of me. Along with anyone else you happen to have at hand."

Razor's grin widened.

"Same as always, then," the Doctor muttered.

"Same as always," Razor agreed. "You give yourself up to save an innocent human. One you've spoken to, become fond of, consider a friend. Predictable."

A light appeared in the Doctor's eyes. He glanced at Leandra. A small smile on his face. "Yes. Predictable. Funny, that. After all, what if she's right?"

"Enough talking!" shouted one of the vampire entourage. "Do it, already!"

"No, really!" the Doctor insisted. "What if you're right, Leandra? And I've been letting this all happen? Using it to my advantage? What if—?"

But he never finished. Because the vampires had long since lost their patience with him. And he only had time to let his expression drop into resignation and disgust, before the vampires descended.

And the ritual began, once again.

* * *

"I'm close," Joanna told Angel. "I know I'm close."

Angel glanced out the window, at the sky. "The sun's about to come up," he told her. "I can't stay here."

Joanna didn't look up from her work, just shooed him away with her hands. "Yeah? So? Get out of here. You're blocking my light."

And so he retreated, back into his sun-sealed room. Leaving Joanna to get on with her work. And Joanna knew she was close. She was sure. Because this was exactly what Carolyn had done to discover vamp-away in the first place.

Creating vampire cells. Watching how they increased. Then finding ways to contain them.

Except that Joanna had already found and tested the traditional vamp-away formula. And discovered that — with this level of Time Lord Blood in the vampires' bodies, it was far, far too late for vamp-away. So she'd added in another element to the process. Infused the vampire cells with Time Lord blood, and conducted her experiments that way.

And she'd nearly come up with the solution.

It was already mid-morning by the time she had things properly set up to test her results. She had a number of laboratory rats — vampirized, injected with Time Lord Blood — that she could use. She selected one. Poisoned its food supply. And watched the results.

Nothing.

Joanna felt herself slump, as she realized that this wasn't going to work. That she'd failed, once again. How had Carolyn managed to do this? Had Carolyn simply been a genius, or had it been working in the TARDIS labs that had given her the ability to create something so powerful?

"Might as well just run you through a maze and make you find the cheese," Joanna muttered to the rat.

Then stopped. Froze. And stared at the rat.

"Hang on."

The rat blinked at her, dumbly, then sipped at its food once more, before meandering back to its wheel. Running around, over and over again, in circles. Trying to get somewhere it couldn't.

Joanna got up, and went to all the other cages. Examining the other lab rats she had at her disposal. None of them suspecting anything would happen to them. None of them understanding their situation. All of them just proceeding with their normal routines with no change — except for sprouting fangs and leaping at the glass of their cages, trying to attack the rat in the cell over from them.

"Maze," she repeated. "Should run them through a maze."

Because it was obvious to her — so obvious, now! The TBVs around the world, when they'd drunk the Doctor's blood, hadn't just grown stronger, faster, completely invulnerable — they'd become _smart_.

And none of these rats — subjected to the same conditions — showed any evidence of increased intelligence.

Joanna felt her mind reel.

"It doesn't make them smart," she muttered. "The blood. It doesn't make them smart!" She clutched at the back of a chair, trying to catch her breath. Thinking through all the things she'd discovered, since she started. "The TBVs. They knew where the Doctor was. They knew how to combat Slayers. They knew how to use technology, hack into computer systems, adapt Torchwood's weapons to suit their own purposes. They knew how to infiltrate UNIT. They knew everyone they needed to get rid of. And… they couldn't have known… any of it… unless…"

_It is not time._

Joanna spun around, looking for the owner of the voice that had just flooded her head. Except that there was no one there.

A psychic signal.

"Who are you?" Joanna demanded. "Why've you been telling these vampires everything they needed to know? What do you have against the Doctor?"

There was a pause, hovering in the air. Then, once again, the disembodied voice spoke up.

_Samantha Jones Finn should never have remembered. Time could change. The future may be corrupted. The critical instant might never occur._

"Critical instant?" asked Joanna. "What are you…?"

But she never finished. Because she felt a sudden, horrible, stabbing feeling in her head, as if she'd just been struck by lightning, and the bolt had chosen to focus exclusively on her brain. And she felt herself falling, falling away, and didn't know if she'd ever come back.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene between Jack and Buffy, here, is one of my favorite scenes in this entire story. Short but powerful.

"So," said Jack, leaning against the railing, beside Buffy. "You don't want me dead."

Buffy didn't look at him, just stared out at the city in front of her. The wind in her hair. Up here, on the roof of the Slayer Institute, she could pretend that she was free. Pretend she could leave, retire, live a completely normal life, and never have to see another vampire or evil creature again.

Up here, Buffy could lie to herself.

"I don't want _anyone_ dead," Buffy corrected. "Not anyone on the side of good, anyways."

"That's why you almost threw a sword through my head," Jack pointed out, "when you found me with your sister."

Buffy's hands clenched a little tighter around the railing. Thinking about… the possibility of Dawn… running off with a mysterious man who couldn't die and invited danger, getting herself into a situation she couldn't handle, getting herself….

No. No. Buffy couldn't even think about it.

(Couldn't get the image of Spike dying out of her head, every time she did — couldn't help thinking, what if Dawn went the same way, what if Buffy lost them all? What if Buffy _didn't_ die young, like all the other Slayers, and she had to live on while everyone else died around her?)

Buffy felt another gust of wind run across her arms, through her hair, and she forced the tension from her body. Her eyes flicking back towards Jack. "You're immortal. Weird, and… headachey. And you're always all with the flirting. But…" she looked away. "No. I don't want you dead."

Jack said nothing for a few long moments. Then, in a quiet voice, "You know why I'm like this. Don't you?"

"No," Buffy lied.

"Of course not," Jack agreed. "You just happened to know the pure-iron sword wouldn't kill me — randomly. Without knowing anything about my condition."

"Maybe I just didn't want you to try it out and see," Buffy shot back.

"Look, Doctor, give it to me straight," Jack demanded. "What's wrong with…?"

He stopped, as Buffy turned on him. Her whole body completely tense. Her face growing pale. Her eyes wide and round, staring at him.

"What did you call me?" she asked.

Jack, realizing his mistake, hesitated. Then tried to cover it up, with a flirty grin and a wink. "Well, person-in-command. Competent, smart, legendary. Able to defeat invincible monsters. Good-looking. Easy mistake to make."

"You called me…" Buffy stared deep into his eyes. And spotted something in there that she hadn't expected to see. Hadn't realized. "You're attracted to me."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Can't blame a guy for looking."

"You're attracted to me," Buffy continued, "because I remind you of…" She let the wind catch her last words, and toss them out across the city below.

"What? That's not a bad thing," Jack insisted. "You're both heroes. Both lost your homes. Both wound up in wars against pure evil that made you a little callous. Both impossible, amazing people, who can achieve…"

Before Buffy could stop herself, she'd grabbed Jack up by his coat, and jerked him over the railing, dangling him out over the edge of the roof, her eyes furiously boring into his.

"The Doctor could be dying," she growled. "As we speak. Tortured, beaten, emotionally torn apart and treated like less than an animal — and you want to _sleep_ with me, and pretend I'm _him_?!"

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but wisely elected to remain silent.

"I'm not the Doctor," Buffy told him. "I'm never going to be the Doctor. I'm not the one who makes people better. I'm the Slayer — I'm the girl that kills them." Her grip on Jack's coat trembled, and for a moment, it seemed like she was going to drop him. Let him fall.

"I thought… you didn't want me dead," Jack volunteered.

Buffy ignored him. Her eyes angry, a storm inside her face. "Everyone who gets close to me dies," she spat at him. "Everyone that loves me is tortured, killed, or destroyed. That's what my love does to people. It murders them." She shook him. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Jack muttered.

Not good enough. Buffy dragged him even closer to her, until his face was right in hers, and in a half-shout, she yelled, "Do you understand?!"

"Yes!" Jack shouted back.

Buffy pivoted around, and dropped him, in a heap, back down onto the roof beside her. "Good."

Jack struggled back to his feet, trying to catch his breath.

"Stop loving me, Jack," Buffy told him. "Because, immortal or not, if you love me, you're going to suffer. Everyone always does. I'm the Slayer, it's what happens."

"Thanks for not slaying me, then," Jack said, still feeling a little winded.

Buffy turned, and walked back to the door that led into the Slayer Institution. "I'm not trying to slay you," she said. "I'm trying to save your life."

And she slipped back into the building.

* * *

The Doctor never _let_ himself be caught. But he always knew he would be.

As he fought through the nausea, the sluggishness, the creeping unconsciousness that dragged him down even as he began to run — he knew he'd never get out. These days, they left him with too little blood to be able to get anywhere near the exit. Even if he'd actually been running towards it.

Instead of away from it. As he was, now.

He hit the floor with the weight of two vampires crashing down across his back. Struggled as much as he could, resisted with as much strength as he had left, tried to push them off. But he didn't last long. Never lasted long.

Long enough, he hoped.

"The girl!" came Leandra's voice. "Who's chasing the girl?"

The sudden rush of footsteps surrounding him, as a group of vampires — chasing him — turned around and ran off in pursuit of the latest hostage, Audrey. The Doctor stopped struggling. No point, now. He'd given her as much time as he could, given her the chance to escape. As best a chance as he could give her. Now, it was all up to her.

"Vampires," the Doctor muttered, as the familiar boots appeared in front of him. "Always chasing the food. You never change."

Razor stopped, just in front of the Doctor. "Neither do you," he agreed. "Running away from the exit. Giving your new human friend time to escape. A distraction."

"Never know," the Doctor put in. "This might be another one of my deviously clever plans. Maybe you're playing right into my hand."

Razor made a motion, and the vampires dragged the Doctor up from the floor, making him kneel right before Razor. Hands behind his back.

"Explain this," Razor demanded, lifting up a small metallic object.

"Used it to pick the locks," the Doctor replied. "Took a while to get around the other restraint systems, but, well. Lucky for me, I'm a bit clever."

"My belt buckle," Razor said, waving it at the Doctor. "You picked the lock with my _belt buckle_!"

The Doctor didn't answer him.

Razor threw the object at him, and it bounced off his forehead. Ouch! Really, Razor should have known better. After all, it had been right there, dangling in front of the Doctor's face, in easy reaching distance — and Razor had been highly distracted, at the time...

"Shouldn't have forced me to do something that gave me the chance to get it, then," the Doctor muttered.

Razor regarded the captured Time Lord with cold, black eyes. His entire posture angry, yet trying to appear calm. The posture of a man who knew the Doctor was right. And wouldn't be able to help himself from making the same mistake again.

"We'll have to punish you, of course," said Razor. He gave a small, feral grin, pacing towards his prisoner. "That's the fun part." He held out a hand, and ruffled the Doctor's hair.

The Doctor tried to jerk away, but was held fast.

"You can punish me without killing Audrey," the Doctor told him.

Razor's yellow eyes gleamed. "Do you really expect us to show her mercy?"

No. Not 'expect'. He'd never expected that of them, even back when he'd hoped for it.

"She's no threat to you," the Doctor explained. Using cold, logical, rational sense. "She can do nothing to compromise your plans. You don't need her blood — you're already drinking mine. Her life ensures my cooperation. Let her live."

"There are always more hostages," said Razor.

"And that means allowing me time to talk to and befriend a new hostage," the Doctor countered, "when you could be spending that time torturing me and trying to break me. Keep her alive, and you'll enjoy yourself more."

The vampire the Doctor knew as Oliver entered the corridor, approaching him and Razor from the side. Back from his hunt, with Leandra.

"What is he offering us this time?" Oliver asked.

"A logical argument," said Razor. "A new approach. But not something I'm interested in." He yanked the Doctor by the hair, forcing their eyes to meet. "You know what I want you to offer."

Not this, again. Like a broken record, this one.

"Everything," Razor demanded. "Give me everything."

"All right, fine!" the Doctor said. "Everything! Go ahead. Take it. But leave Audrey alive."

Razor gritted his teeth, shoving the Doctor away with a strength that nearly bowled over the two guards restraining him. Not that the action gave the Doctor the slightest chance to break free.

"Lies," Razor said. "You'll never give me everything. You'll always try to stop me."

"Never know," the Doctor replied, wheezing a little, as he tried to regain his breath. "Might have actually broken me, this time."

Razor glared at the Doctor. Struggling to keep his anger in check, behind his calm, ordered, in control veneer. He looked over at Oliver and Leandra. "The hostage?"

"Captured," said Leandra. "Dead."

Razor turned back to the Doctor. "You hear that?" he said. "Your pleas will go unanswered. Your human is already dead. You know what that means." With a hint of eagerness and excitement in his eyes. "You know what comes next."

Yes. Yes, the Doctor knew. And he hated it more than anything.

"Accept it," Razor commanded. "Who you are. What you've become. What you've allowed us to do. This is your life, now and forever. And there's nothing you can do, except surrender. Let us destroy the human race."

The Doctor said nothing for a long moment. Then, with a vehemence that came from the bottom of his hearts, he gritted out a word that was a promise.

"Never."

* * *

The TBV attacks had changed, since the failed attack on the Slayer Institute.

Still always on small towns, but there were more attacks, now. Many more. And every time an attack was planned, the nearest world-saving organization always worked out — _just_ before it happened — that it was going to.

Enough time for that organization to dart out and fight the TBVs themselves. But not to call for backup.

"They're doing it on purpose," said Jack. "Strategic."

"Picking off their opposition," Buffy agreed. "Decreasing our numbers, slowly but surely, while their numbers grow."

Buffy and the others planned. They strategized. They tried to improve communications between the organizations. But, in the end, they all knew it wouldn't help. What they needed was to strike back in full force. A heavily concentrated attack, aimed right at the center of the vampires' power.

And to do that, they needed to find the Doctor.


	27. Chapter 27

"Still nothing?" Xander asked, studying Dawn as she hung up the phone.

"Nothing useful," Dawn said. She glanced down at the TARDIS key, hung around her neck. Remembering her promise. Both to herself, and to Buffy. "But I _have_ figured out that time travel sucks!"

Xander nodded, slowly. "Okay, then."

"Make a thousand inquiries, search a million databases, ask a billion people," said Dawn, "if they've seen some guy calling himself 'the Doctor', who's sick-looking, barely able to walk, running away from some horrible danger, looking totally torn up and raggedy. And you get exactly the same thing!"

Xander waited for her to go on, but she didn't. "And that would be…?"

"Leadworth! Psychiatrists! Amy Pond!" Dawn said. "See? Time travel totally sucks. Here I am, looking for the Doctor that's been kidnapped, and all I can find is some crossed-timeline Doctor from his own future."

Xander frowned. "How do you know it's from his own future?"

Dawn opened her mouth to retort. Then shut it. As she realized she didn't have a good answer to this.

"Do we actually know which Doctor we're looking for?" Xander continued. "We know it's the Doctor. We found the TARDIS. And that's kind of it. This could be way before we ever met him. Or way after!"

"It's not," Willow chimed in, from the corner, where she'd been flipping through magic books.

Xander and Dawn looked up at her.

"The Doctor we're looking for is from before he met Dawn," Willow continued. "But not before he met Buffy. He sent her a telepathic message, so he must know her."

"And… the other thing you said?" asked Dawn. "About this being before he met me. How could you…?"

"Elizabeth told me," Willow said. She looked down at her book, her eyes unfocused. "Back when she convinced me that Buffy was in Hell."

* * *

"It's not obvious what happened," Angel insisted.

"Yeah," muttered Spike, looking at the remains of the shattered glass cages where Joanna's vampire-rats had once been. He lit up a cigarette. "Course not. Anything might have caused her to collapse. Rats had nothing to do with it."

Angel didn't answer.

"Suppose that changes our job," Spike continued. "One day, I'm saving the world from evil. The next day, Joanna collapses, and I turn into a glorified rat-catcher."

"Rat catcher," Angel repeated. He shuddered, remembering the days before he'd met Buffy, when he'd been out on the street, living off rat blood and too much of a coward to kill himself. "Now there's something I never wanted to do, again."

"But you're right, mate," Spike insisted. "Her collapse probably had nothing whatsoever to do with being munched on by a horde of hungry vampire-rats. Absolutely, nothing…"

"I was thinking," Angel cut in, before Spike could go on, "that it might have something to do with her psychic link to the Doctor."

Spike paused. Then took his cigarette out of his mouth. "You really think the Doctor's still alive, then? After being Razor's prisoner for this long?"

Angel gave Spike a pointed stare. "You said that Amulet was the same as the one that vaporized you."

Spike cringed. "Right. Yeah."

He took another drag on the cigarette. Because Angel, annoyingly enough, was right. Same Amulet — and Spike, of all people, should know. Same Amulet, earlier point in its own time stream…

"What happens if he does die?" Spike asked. "Free will and all that. Things could change."

"Then the vampires closest to him die," Angel said. "The rest lose their food supply. But keep their invulnerability. Buffy and the Slayers will finish them off, somehow. And Joanna — when she wakes up — will probably murder me."

"Not that," Spike said. "What happens to the Amulet?"

Angel grimaced. Realizing… that if the Doctor died, now…

The Amulet would never make it back in time, to wind up in the Wolfram and Hart archives. It would never wind up in Angel's hands. Angel would never give it to Buffy. Spike would never wind up activating it, or collapsing the Hellmouth. The Final Battle of the Hellmouth might never have been won, in which case the First would have shown up to take over the Earth with an army of Turok Han vampires.

History would change. Everything would be rewritten.

Earth would already have fallen.

"We _really_ need to make sure we save the Doctor," Angel said.

* * *

Buffy slashed at the nearest TBV with her pure-iron sword. She'd been lucky. She'd been tracking down a possible lead on where the Doctor was, when she'd wound up in a small town just before the vampires raided it. And this time, Buffy could tell, they were way more desperate than they'd been before.

UNIT was on its way. Buffy didn't need top secret codes or confirmations to know that. UNIT's response teams were usually the first backup troops to arrive on the scene, after any attack. And as for other reinforcements… well, she could only hope that Sam and Riley had gotten her message.

But for now, she knew, she was on her own.

The other vampires nearby, as if simply knowing what was happening, without needing to see or hear, turned and focused their attacks on Buffy, managing to wrestle the sword out of her hand before she could dust another one.

(And, damn it, Faith was right! Pure-iron swords — especially against vampires — were pieces of shit.)

Stay alive.

She ducked to the right, then feinted left and punched out. Dodged. Rolled across the ground. Stay alive. Most important thing, right now. A kick out at the vamp to her left. Block over the head. Moves done so fast she didn't even have time to think. No strategy. No plan. Just reactions, instinct, her ability to keep herself alive one second longer.

Movement from her right. She tried to flip out of the way, but too slow. Splitting pain across her shoulder. The ground rushing towards her. Unable to stop it.

She'd kept herself alive, for a second. Then another. And another. And another.

No seconds left, now.

A rush of air, a schwoomping sound, then a thud and a cry from one of the vampires. It stumbled, but remained upright.

"Buffy!" shouted a familiar voice. One that Buffy couldn't quite place, in the swirl of battle and impending doom.

Then a glint of silver and red, and Buffy reached out, catching the Scythe in her right hand. More schwoomping sounds, more cries, more thuds, as the vampires lunged towards Buffy. On instinct, she lashed out with the Scythe, striking at the nearest vampire's head.

And — amazingly enough — the vampire crumbled to dust.

Buffy got to her feet, biting back pain in her shoulder, and charged at the other vampires. Shocked, as they fell. As they turned to dust. Even more shocked, when they began turning away from her. Fixing their eyes on something behind them.

No. Some _one_.

"Dawn," Buffy breathed.

Dawn, carrying a great big, alien-looking gun, shooting it over and over again at the TBVs. Dawn, rushing in at the last minute, to save her sister. Dawn, looking all militaristic and controlled and in her element, when Buffy knew that she was still just a kid — a wonderful, sweet, if sometimes exceedingly bratty and annoying kid.

They were going to kill her.

Buffy's brain cut out. Everything left her. Every thought, every plan, every strategy. Every instinct for self preservation. Didn't care about the mysterious Scythe that now worked. Didn't care what the gun was. Didn't care what was happening.

_No one_ was touching Dawn!

The next few minutes were a blur. A swirl of blood and dust and terror — the horrible, nasty taste of terror, deep in Buffy's throat — as she hacked and slashed and charged, kicking and biting and screaming, tearing the monsters away.

Five minutes later, every vampire in the town had either fled, or died.

"You okay?" Dawn asked Buffy, putting down her gun.

Buffy turned from her spot on the battlefield. Scythe still in hand. Its blade resting against the ground. Turned to face her sister, no emotion in her eyes, no pity or compassion in her stance.

Then, in a flash, Buffy was right in front of Dawn, grabbing her by the shoulders, glaring into her eyes.

"Don't you ever — _ever_ — do that again!" she snapped.

Then turned, and walked away.


	28. Chapter 28

"Oh, blimey, not again," the Doctor groaned, as Razor approached. "Twice in one day? Can't you find anything better to do with your time?"

Razor said nothing, just studied him, curiously.

"Well, I say better," the Doctor countered. "Although, actually, given your favorite past-time of butchering humans, not so much better. Really. Think about it. So you kill humans. What's the point? What do you gain from it?"

Razor still said nothing.

"As much as you keep insisting, you're not a sadist," the Doctor continued. "Well, not unless I'm around — but since that's one part anger-management-issues, and two parts sheer terror, that doesn't count. You want power. But even if you put your plans into action — even if you rule the whole world — what would you do with it? What would you want with the entire Earth?"

Still, no answer.

"And don't you go on about conquering the world so you can destroy all the humans, again," the Doctor said. "Because you know you can't. Kill them, and you eliminate your food supply. And there's no chance you'll — you're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you?"

"You have faith in them," said Razor.

The Doctor blinked. Then blinked again. Not Razor's usual tactic. "Come again?"

"Humans," Razor continued. "You believe in humanity. To the very end."

"I know humans can be brilliant," the Doctor replied. "And I know they always fight back."

"But it's not just _humans_ you believe in," Razor said. "It's _your_ humans. Your friends." He leaned in, a little closer. "You think they'll rescue you."

The Doctor stared at the man before him. "You're not Razor."

"That's what you do, isn't it?" asked the man who looked like Razor. "You walk into danger. Hoping they'll get you out of it alive. And when they die, trying to save you…" The man gave a small smile. "You act so surprised."

The Doctor said nothing.

"Even though you know," the man who wasn't Razor continued. "A part of you always knows. Every single time. That you're sending them to their deaths."

"Who are you?" the Doctor demanded.

The man who wasn't Razor stepped away. Raising up his hands. "At the moment, Razor."

"Oh, no," said the Doctor. "You're not Razor. Razor talks a big talk, but it's always megalomaniacal clap-trap. Then, when he runs out of rhetoric, he moves on to the torture. That's Razor's game all over. But you…" He stared, trying to work it out, in his mind. "You haven't even touched me, yet."

The man who wasn't Razor looked amused. But said nothing.

"Go on, then," the Doctor said. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"Many things," said the man who wasn't Razor. "None of which you'd approve. That's not important. At the moment, I'm just indulging a curiosity."

The Doctor thought through the different races he'd faced down. Tried to come up with some answer. But, unfortunately for him, the most likely explanation he could come up with for this… Razor that wasn't Razor… was that he'd actually gone mad.

Or… rather… madder.

"What curiosity?" the Doctor asked.

"I want to know," the man who wasn't Razor replied, "who else wants you locked up and tortured like this. And why."

"Else?"

"Razor doesn't know how broken you really are, inside," the man who wasn't Razor continued. "You put on such a show. But how long can you continue to hold out, before you collapse? How long before Razor does what he threatens, and breaks you?"

"Yeah, yeah, got the mind-games, thanks," the Doctor said. "You mentioned a 'someone else'. Keeping me here, as well. Which implies that _you're_ _also_ keeping me here."

"Naturally."

"Oh, naturally," the Doctor agreed. "You've got this all planned out. _Except_ … you don't. There's someone else out there, in the shadows, piggybacking on your plans. Someone who you didn't know was going to be here."

"Yes," mused the man who wasn't Razor. "It appears so. Interesting. I wonder if their plans for you are worse than mine?"

"So you _don't_ know their plans," the Doctor confirmed. "You want me for something, but every move you make might be helping someone else. Someone planning to snatch me away and use me to _their_ own ends. _Theirs_. Not yours."

The Fake Razor didn't seem even remotely bothered by this.

"I suspect," the Fake Razor continued, "this all has something to do with the Slayer's Scythe."

The Doctor's hearts stopped dead for a second. "What?!"

"Oh, that got your attention," said the man who wasn't Razor. "Yes. Your friend — the Slayer — has the Scythe. _That_ Scythe. She is using it. Has been using it for over a year, now." He gave a theatrical sigh. "And you had such faith in her!"

"The Scythe?" the Doctor demanded. "What Scythe? Why? How? What has she been doing…?" He stopped. And a chill ran through him, as he remembered what had brought him here, in the first place. "Los Angeles. It had been transported to another dimension."

One of the powers of the Oblivion Scythe.

"Naw… she couldn't," the Doctor insisted. "She wouldn't…"

"But you know that she could, and would," countered the Fake Razor. "You've seen one version of her future. Is it so far off to believe that, in this timeline, Elizabeth's counterpart wouldn't turn out the same?"

The Doctor said nothing.

"Your Slayer is coming to find you," said the Fake Razor. "Coming to save you. The question you have to ask yourself is — if _she's_ the one saving you, do you really want to be saved?"

* * *

"Sam came up with the idea," Jack explained to the others at the Slayer Institute. He raised up the gun. "An iron-bolt firing rifle. If pure-iron saps the alien energy from their bodies, then this gun's the sappiest thing of all."

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"I didn't want too much of the bolts to disintegrate upon firing," Sam explained. "But I needed to give the shot enough impact to really lodge deep inside a vampire. So I encased each iron bolt inside a highly flammable mixture of chemicals, which—"

"The bullets aren't pure iron," Dawn cut in, noticing that everyone else was looking seriously lost. "But when you fire them, the outside stuff burns away, and only the iron is left." She grinned at the gun in her hand. "And the gun looks seriously awesome."

Which was true. This gun was big and impressive-looking enough, that it put Rose's Dalek-killing gun to shame.

"And you made this?" Faith asked Sam. A trace of awe in her voice.

"Jack helped," Sam confessed. "But I came up with the idea. It's pretty simple. Buffy said only pure iron could remove the alien energy from the TBVs bodies, and temporarily stop them growing back body parts. But pure iron swords don't work in and of themselves."

"But this way," Kennedy realized, "one group can shoot the iron into the TBVs, while another group takes advantage of their body-part-regrowing inability, and hacks their heads off."

"Using a normal sword," Sam agreed.

"Ingenious," Riley said. He put an arm around Sam's shoulders. "Completely ingenious."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Buffy cut in. "What I want to know is… who let Dawn walk right into the middle of a bloodbath, holding something that the vampires would see as a serious threat?"

Everyone looked at everyone else. Then looked away.

"No one _let_ me," Dawn said. "I just did it." She gave Buffy a dark stare. "I saved your life, you know!"

Buffy bit her lip. Part of her knowing that Dawn was right, part of her so completely grateful that she was still alive. Most of her still remembering that horrible sense of dread and anger and terror, as she'd seen Dawn out there, about to die. When Buffy was so scared that she'd never be able to save her.

"Besides," Dawn continued. "I was the best person to go. I've got this to protect me." She raised up the TARDIS key, for Buffy to see. That TARDIS key, still hanging around her neck. "Of all the people here, I was the most likely to come out of it alive."

"Except for Jack," Buffy said.

"Who was right behind me, giving me covering fire!" Dawn insisted. She balled up her hands into fists, and advanced on her sister.

Xander stepped in between them. "Woah with the domestics, okay?" he said. He turned to Buffy. "Buff. Dawn's fine. She knew what she was doing. She wasn't going to get killed." He turned to Dawn. "Dawn. Buffy's got every right to freak out when you run into the middle of a battlefield, armed with half a battle plan. Don't blow up at her about it."

Buffy backed down. Took a deep breath. Let it go. "You're right." She glanced back at Dawn. "Just… don't do it again. Okay?" She turned, then headed back to her office. "I've got to try to find the Doctor."

Dawn watched her sister head off. Letting the last few hours of her own life really sink in.

"You all right?" Sam asked her.

"Fine," Dawn said. "Totally fine. Just… thinking. About, you know. Rose and stuff."

No one said anything. As awkwardness filled the air.

"Because she's got a future," Dawn explained. "Going off into the universe. Fighting monsters and saving the world and cool things like that. But… then I keep thinking, here's me. Dawn Summers." Dawn glanced down at the mega-gun in her hands. "And what do I have to look forward to?"

* * *

The Doctor knew it was really Razor, this time. And he knew that Razor was in an absolutely terrible mood.

"Brilliant plan not working out?" the Doctor asked him.

As if to confirm that this was the actual Razor, he pulled the switch to the electricity, and sent that horrible, wrenching crackling electricity through every cell of the Doctor's body.

"Or perhaps," the Doctor shouted, through the pain, "you've just encountered the Scythe!"

The electricity shut off.

"So you did put the Slayer up to it," Razor growled.

Which confirmed. That Buffy Summers had the Scythe. And she was using it.

"Oh, absolutely!" the Doctor lied. "Terribly clever of me. Just one of my many master-plans." He grinned. "Have to admit. Mysterious Scythe — no idea where it came from, popped up in the present as if it had never even existed in the past, despite its being ancient — rather impressive. Don't you think?"

Razor narrowed his eyes at the Doctor.

So. Another theory confirmed. The Scythe had been misplaced in time. Perhaps… dragged from the future, dropping into the past?

(No one had ever known for certain what had happened to the Oblivion Scythe, at the end of the Oblivion War.)

"What did you do to make it work?" Razor demanded.

Now that was a new one. It hadn't worked? Perhaps some sort of temporal damage had occurred, when it was being transported. Temporal damage that Buffy had only just discovered how to reverse.

(What could she possibly be using it for? What could have happened to her, in the years since Sunnydale? Had she really changed that much?)

"Well, hate to brag," the Doctor said, with a grin, "but I'm really quite clever."

Razor stepped away from the controls. Surveying the Doctor. Studying him. "No," he decided. "You won't tell me. Not the truth." He gave a feral grin. "Not unless I change your mind."

Oh, bugger.

Razor called some others over, talking quietly with them. Then, in an instant, the others were gone, off to put into action whatever horrible manipulation Razor had dreamed up, this time.

A burst of noise from just beyond the Doctor's line of sight, as the vampires ushered a large group of people into the cave. A group of humans — men, women, and children — all squeezed together and gathered in the center of the room. Right where the Doctor could see them.

Ed pulled a lever, and the humans were sealed within a psychic energy field.

"Let me guess," the Doctor said. "You're going to hurt other people until I tell you everything. You haven't been taking notes from the Daleks, have you? Because this is right up their alley."

The vampires began to circle the humans, licking their lips, their yellow eyes fixed on the trapped humans.

"We vampires are animals of prey, Time Lord," Razor replied. "We live to hunt. To kill. To destroy. We offer you the chance to witness our birthright — the slaughter of lesser humans." He smiled. "Or you can talk."

The Doctor planted a grin of his own onto his face. "Well, when you put it like that," he said, "course I'll talk. Bit of a chat. Love a chat. What do you want to know?"

Razor held up a hand to the vampires nearby, stopping them. Then leaned into the Doctor. "Tell me," he demanded, "about the Scythe."

The Doctor met Razor's eyes with his own, and all cheer fell from him. "It's a weapon," he explained. "From the distant future. Built specifically for the Slayer, with powers you couldn't even begin to imagine. I don't know why it's here, now. Or who brought it. But if you don't let me get rid of it, every single person on this planet is going to—"

He was cut off, as Razor stomped a boot down on his stomach. Those vampire eyes boring into his own. And the Doctor had the horrible feeling that whatever he knew about the Oblivion Scythe — it _wasn't_ the information Razor had been after.

"I know what it is," Razor gritted to him. "What it does. What I want to know is… what changed? Why can the Scythe kill us, now, when it couldn't before?"

The Doctor blinked. Then blinked again. His mind racing through possibilities and probabilities and theories, and coming up with nothing. Because the Scythe he'd seen in the distant future had never been intended to slay vampires — or slay any individual, for that matter. It had been design to slay entire populations, all at once.

Course, it probably could kill individuals, if it was sharpened. What with it being Scythe-shaped and all. But the phenomena that Razor was describing — well, it didn't make any sense. None at all.

The Doctor wished he'd gotten a better look at the weapon, back in the 77th century. Maybe then, he'd be able to explain it.

He glanced at the humans — huddling together, panicked and frightened, some fighting back but most too scared to do anything but scream — swallowed, then took a chance.

"The flux drive variant factor," the Doctor choked out. "They must have switched it from positive to negative."

Razor lifted some of the pressure off the Doctor's stomach, his eyes studying his prisoner carefully. His brow creasing. He turned to Ed, who shook his head, as if to confirm that the Doctor was lying.

"Of course you wouldn't have heard of it!" the Doctor insisted. "This is technology from millennia into your own future! Do you really think you'd understand what makes it tick?"

The vampires all visibly hesitated at this comment. Trying to figure it out. Decide if this was a trap, or a bluff, or the truth. Decide if the Doctor really had been behind this entire scheme, or if he was simply leading them on another false trail.

A snort from the far end of the room.

"Flux drive variant factor?" came Leandra's voice. She walked closer to him, her eyes fixed on his, amusement dancing inside of them. "Is that the best you can come up with, Doctor?"

The area was filled with people — humans struggling or crying or hugging their children, vampires circling the outside of the force field, licking their lips, imagining the kill. Leandra nimbly stepped around them all, not touching anyone, stopping beside to Razor and the others. Right in front of the Doctor.

"I suppose it could exist," Ed proposed. "In some future…"

"It doesn't," Leandra snapped. "Not in any time, or place. The Doctor is lying." She leaned in closer to the Doctor. "Aren't you?"

The Doctor stared at her. This… 'Leandra'… who'd just magically appeared, at exactly the right moment, with all the answers. And addressed him, not as 'Time Lord' or 'prisoner', but by his title: 'Doctor.'

"What do you want with me?" he asked her, softly.

Leandra smiled — a cruel, malicious smile, one that seemed to hold numerous answers just out of the Doctor's grasp — and stepped back from him, turning to Razor.

"What a bad boy he's been," Leandra said. "Thinking he could bluff his way out of this. We'd better teach him a lesson."

"Why don't _you_ , then, Leandra?" the Doctor asked. He struggled to sit up further, but his bonds held him in place. "Go on! I'm sure whatever nastiness you're planning, you can't wait to get the full and complete _hands-on_ experience."

Razor and the others seemed to completely ignore the Doctor's words. Their eyes hungry, their minds immersed in nothing but blood and the thought of death.

"Haven't any of you noticed?!" the Doctor shouted at them. "Every single time you're in a pickle, there's always one of you who turns up. Knows all the answers. Saves all your skins. But never — _ever_ — touches anything!"

"Pretty lies from a pretty alien," Leandra cooed.

"What are you?" the Doctor demanded. "A psychic projection? A hologram? But controlled by whom? Who's pulling your strings? Where have I met them before, and what do they really want with me?"

"Maybe you should pay less attention to me, and more attention to the humans you pledged to save, Doctor," Leandra replied. "Unless you want even more deaths on your conscience, Destroyer of Worlds."

The Doctor gave the not-quite-Leandra a cold stare — because this wasn't finished, not at all — then fixed his attention back on Razor and the others. And managed to shout a last, "No!" just as Ed reached out for the lever to release the force field.

Ed pulled the lever.

The humans rushed out, struggling, fighting, trying to escape — but there weren't enough of them to overpower the vampires, and they were nowhere near strong enough to strike back with any real effect. The screams turned higher and higher, as they were slaughtered.

"Don't be thick, Razor!" the Doctor shouted. "This isn't about you or me. We're pawns, both of us! This is about something else entirely!"

But Razor had already joined his fellows in the massacre going on right before the Doctor's eyes, and didn't hear anything over the humans' frightened screams.

"Oh, you have no idea," came Leandra's voice — now right beside the Doctor.

But when he turned his head, there was nothing — and no one — there.


	29. Chapter 29

Buffy was right in the middle of mowing down a set of vampires, when her cell phone rang. She swore under her breath, then chopped the vamp's head off, letting him dust in the air, before she flipped the phone out of her pocket and answered.

"Psych ward transfer," came Dawn's voice, on the other end.

Buffy ducked just before one of the TBVs could strike her from behind. Cradling the phone between her head and shoulder, she rolled forwards, jumped to her feet, then slashed at the vamp with the Scythe. Damn. No pure-iron bullet in this one.

"Yeah, I was kind of expecting a sudden rush of people claiming to see vampires and getting locked up in insane asylums because no one believed them," Buffy said. "Just transfer them to the Institute's hospital wing like you usually do, and we'll debrief them."

Buffy lopped an arm off — not that it did much good, since it just grew back — and ducked to avoid the vamp's next blow.

"Actually, I think you should pay attention to this one," Dawn continued. "I didn't get major details or anything, but… seriously. Buffy. See this one in person."

Buffy just barely managed to jerk out of the way of the vamp's next attack. "Sure. Fine. Whatever! I'll just let the vampires go on eating people, while I go visit a psych ward in—"

She stopped, catching the vamp's next punch in her free hand, glaring at him. "Do you mind?" she shouted at the TBV. "I'm on the phone, here!"

A thwack from behind the TBV, and from the way it jerked on impact, Buffy guessed that this particular vampire had just been pure-iron-ized. One swipe from the Scythe, and the vamp was dust.

"Where is the patient?" Buffy asked Dawn.

* * *

"Her name is Audrey," the nurse told Buffy, leading her down the corridors. "That's all she's told us, so far. No identification on her, nothing to establish who she is. The police haven't been able to help, either. No missing person's reports. No leads. No nothing. She's just… Audrey." The nurse glanced back at Buffy. "Your associate said you could help with that, at your own Institution. That you could find her family. Let them know."

"Yeah, we're pretty much pros at vampire-related things," said Buffy. She paused, then added, "I mean, psychiatric conditions in which people claim to have seen vampires." She cleared her throat, then continued. "And we'll do everything we can to find her family. Promise."

The nurse smiled at Buffy, then continued to lead Buffy down the corridor.

"So," Buffy continued. "That's what the police do with anonymous people who come in, raving about vampires? Ship them off here, and let them get locked up?"

The nurse gave Buffy a reprimanding look. "Audrey admitted herself, here. Voluntarily. And her accounts of 'vampires' are the least of her concerns. She's here, primarily, because she knew she couldn't deal with the psychiatric trauma of her abduction and escape without professional help."

Buffy hesitated. "Abduction and escape?"

"There's a police investigation underway," the nurse replied. "I've already supplied your Institution with the full information and contacts they need to cooperate with that — should Audrey actually be transferred to your care. But, from what we can tell, the experience very nearly killed her, and she was lucky to escape at all. The physical injuries will heal soon. But the emotional trauma… seems to have caused a split personality. And that will take far longer to overcome."

Great. Thanks, Dawn. So this special someone Buffy was visiting was a schizophrenic vampire-abducted person who escaped. Which meant basically zero on the intel.

Couldn't Xander have taken care of this, or something?

"Whoever her captors were, they were cruel, violent, and malicious," the nurse continued. "Audrey cannot accept the things that happened to her, so she assigns them to someone else. A fictional personality generated by her own mind. She calls this other someone simply, 'Doctor'."

Buffy jumped a mile high. "What?"

The nurse glanced back at Buffy. "Audrey wants to get better," she said. "Why else would she name a personality something like that?"

"Doctor," Buffy repeated. "Like, Doctor Some-Other-Name? Or just Doctor? What did he look like? When did she last see him? What did…?"

She trailed off, as she realized the nurse was now starting to regard Buffy as if _she_ might need some serious psychiatric help, too.

"You'd better speak to Dr. Hankolin," the nurse said. "He's been treating Audrey since she came in. Perhaps he can explain it better."

"Actually, I'd kind of rather just see Audrey," said Buffy. "I mean, first-hand accounts are always better, and everything."

The nurse's expression grew a touch sadder. "It would be better if you didn't, at the moment," she said. "Audrey's wary of strangers, and we're trying to keep her in a calm, supportive environment. It's the only way she'll eat anything."

Buffy frowned. "What do you mean, eat anything?"

They stopped, just in front of an office door, and the nurse gave Buffy an apologetic smile. "Dr. Hankolin will explain," she said, opening the door for Buffy, and gesturing for her to go in.

* * *

The office was small, but neat. Sunlight poured through the windows behind Dr. Hankolin's desk, as the short, professional-looking man stood up to shake Buffy's hand, then invited her to take a seat.

He proceeded to explain Audrey's condition to Buffy using only words containing five or more syllables. Which lasted right up until the moment that Buffy decided she'd had more than enough of this, and wanted to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Look," Buffy cut in, "I'm not a psychiatrist. I just run an Institution that happens to have a psychiatric department as part of it. So I've got no idea what you're talking about."

Dr. Hankolin raised an eyebrow at her. "You have no experience with this sort of thing?"

Oh, good going, Buffy. Way to get this guy on her side. "I… started this whole thing as a way to help people," Buffy said. "My Institution has investigators, medical doctors, and psychiatrists all working together." Which was true — except that _their_ specialists all dealt almost exclusively with the paranormal. And happened to be experts in weird stuff. "I'm in charge of the whole thing, and more on the investigator-y side. Sort of an… all-around do-gooder. So just… act like I'm an idiot. And explain it to me, again."

Dr. Hankolin thought this over, and seemed to accept it. He sighed. "Audrey has gone through a very traumatic experience. And, as is the case with all who come through an experience like this, she's had a hard time coping with the memory of what happened."

"So she created this… alternate personality," Buffy said. "Called 'the Doctor'."

"That is our current theory," Dr. Hankolin agreed. "At first we believed there was actually someone else abducted alongside her, but… well, after speaking with Audrey quite a bit, it became fairly obvious that there wasn't. You'll see for yourself, when you converse with her. 'The Doctor' seems to be, very much, a part of her."

Great. Thanks, Mr. Incompetent.

"The 'Doctor' of Audrey's imagination is almost a… mythical, magical super-hero," Dr. Hankolin continued. "Undergoing tortures that would be fatal to a human being, but surviving them as if they were nothing. Solely to protect her. And… from the hints I've gathered about the biological makeup Audrey seems to have created for him, he is, quite frankly, impossible."

Damn. That was the Doctor, all right.

"So what's Audrey… I mean, did she say anything about… I mean…" Buffy held her head in her hands, and took a few deep breaths. Trying to get her thoughts together.

"Do you know her?" Dr. Hankolin asked.

Buffy snapped her head up. "Huh?" Then realized that her reactions were probably not the kind of thing you'd expect to see in an impartial third-party observer. "Oh. Audrey. Not… exactly. I just…" She shook her head. "Keep going. What else? Why…?" Buffy swallowed, her mind catching on the first thing it could think of. "Why won't she eat anything?"

Dr. Hankolin examined Buffy, carefully. Trying to determine what possible connection she could have, in all of this. Then, in a softer, gentler voice, "I'm very sorry if you know her, Miss Summers. And there's no easy way to say this. But we believe that, during her abduction, Audrey was fed just before she was… sexually abused."

Buffy felt her blood run cold. "Audrey…"

She couldn't imagine the Doctor just sitting by and letting that happen. He must have tried to stop it. And failed — because he wasn't as magical and supernatural and all-knowing as he liked to seem.

(Was this what Joanna had meant, when she said Razor liked to 'break' his victims? Was this what they were doing? Proving to the Doctor that they could kill and slaughter and rape, and he could do nothing to stop them?)

"It's a negative association that's been driven into her mind," Dr. Hankolin continued. "It's hard for her to overcome. But Audrey is a fighter. She wants to get better, Miss Summers. And I promise, she will. Whether she remains here, or is transferred to your Institution, Audrey will recover."

Yeah, Dr. Hankolin definitely thought that Buffy knew Audrey, personally. And that would be useful right until the moment that Audrey showed up and had no idea who Buffy was.

"It's not… I'm looking for someone," Buffy said. "Not Audrey. Someone else. A Doctor. And I think… Audrey might have seen him."

Dr. Hankolin stared at Buffy. "Your… Institution believes that this 'Doctor'… exists?"

But he didn't seem nearly as startled or unnerved as Buffy had imagined him to be. It was almost as if Dr. Hankolin… had known already.

"You're not surprised about that," Buffy pointed out.

"I've… had this… feeling… almost as if…" Dr. Hankolin paused. "But, no. Of course, it has to be impossible. Speak to her for five minutes and you'll see. The Doctor doesn't exist outside of her mind."

"But… you've got some gut instinct," Buffy said, "telling you… he _does_."

Hankolin hesitated a brief moment. Then pulled out the keyboard to his computer, typed on it, and turned the monitor for Buffy to see.

There, lined up in the file folder "Audrey Therapy Sessions", were a list of audio files, all featuring date and time.

"You recorded them all?" Buffy asked. She glanced back at Hankolin. "Aren't there confidentiality things to deal with?"

" _She_ wanted them recorded," Dr. Hankolin explained. "Just like she's been trying to remember how she got here, and where she was held during her captivity. Just like she's been drawing the faces of her captors, over and over again. For the police."

Dr. Hankolin opened up a file cabinet, beside him, and produced a bundle of papers, all featuring crudely drawn pictures of vampires. He handed them to Buffy, who hesitated only briefly before accepting them, and flipping through the images.

"She wants everything she says and does here to be recorded," Dr. Hankolin continued, "because…" He hesitated, then, in a softer voice, "…when she ran away, this… 'Doctor'… didn't make it out with her. And the guilt of leaving him behind is tearing her apart."

Buffy paused, at a picture that had been scribbled out. It looked like she'd attempted to draw a map, but hadn't gotten very far, before she'd given up in frustration.

"She doesn't remember where she escaped from?" Buffy asked. "Or how she got here?"

"She remembers nothing," Dr. Hankolin confirmed. "Someone must have dropped her off at the police station, but she doesn't remember how she got to Cleveland, and the police didn't get the license plate of the car that brought her."

Not that that would have told Buffy anything too important, she guessed.

"I… just…" Hankolin shook his head. "No. I'm sorry. What she's described to me… what she can remember, escaping… wouldn't even make sense with the geography around Cleveland. I'd like to… anything I can do…"

"It's okay," said Buffy. "You didn't believe Audrey when you should have. I mean, yeah, if you'd worked it out sooner, that would have been great, but… you know. You're only human."

Dr. Hankolin leaned over his desk, his eyes on Buffy. And Buffy suddenly had the thought that maybe… Hankolin's unease wasn't completely due to professional incompetence.

"Miss Summers," said Dr. Hankolin, very quietly, "if everything that Audrey has told us is true… and this 'Doctor' really exists… then I think your friend is in far more trouble than you believe."

Buffy felt her breath catch in her throat. "What… what do you…?"

Dr. Hankolin clicked on one of the sound files on his computer. "If you're an investigator, Audrey will want you to hear this," he said, and played the recording.

* * *

"Just to verify," Dr. Hankolin's voice said, across the recording, "Audrey has given express, written permission for this to be recorded, in order to help the police with their investigations. Is that correct, Audrey?"

A timid, frightened, feeble voice came through from not far away. "Have to," Audrey muttered. "To find him. Let people… know… what happened. Is still happening."

"You said that you wanted to talk about the Doctor," Hankolin said. "What happened to him."

Silence, save for the sound of panicked breathing.

"Would you feel better if I turned off the recording?" Hankolin offered.

"No, no, I…" Audrey swallowed. "The… vampires. They… I don't know… hated him. So much. I don't… understand… never even thought you could hate someone… _that_ much…"

A shaky breath.

"You told me they hurt him," Hankolin prompted. "Tortured him."

"Mhm." The sound of uneasy shifting from Audrey, on the recording. "Always. He… let them. Goaded them. Said… better they hurt him… than me."

"They threatened to do the same to you?" Hankolin asked.

"They… liked… hurting people," Audrey said. "Tried… almost…" She gave a whimper. "Did, sometimes. To show… the Doctor… he couldn't stop them."

"You—" Hankolin started, but Audrey cut him off.

"Not about me," Audrey said. "He's… I left him. All this… it's still… they're still…" She gave a few panicked breaths. "…still doing it."

"We will find him, Audrey," Hankolin assured her. "We will reunite you two. I promise."

"The Doctor says… it wasn't hate," Audrey continued. "Not personal. Says it was… fear… hunger. The vampires. They… wanted to bite him. Couldn't. I don't know why. But they… couldn't bite. Couldn't… satisfy… that need…" She gave an audible shudder. "Hunger… turned to lust."

Outside of the recording, Buffy stopped breathing.

"Wanted… to see him… sad," said Audrey. "Crushed. It was… a turn-on. Then they gave him… food…" Her breath sped up, and she started hyperventilating. "And then they… had… sex."

"With him?" asked Dr. Hankolin.

"Usually," said Audrey. "Or… on him. Like… he was furniture. His scent… was… their aphrodisiac. They liked it better… when… _he_ did things… to _them_. When they… threatened me… to make him…" She shuddered. "No. No! I can't… don't want to remember…" She gave a small whimper. "Couldn't block it out. Closed my eyes. Covered my ears. Couldn't block it out."

"This must have been very upsetting for him," said Dr. Hankolin.

"He says… he had to," said Audrey. "Protect me. Make them happy. He says… it didn't matter." A strangled sob. "Easier to steal things, while they were distracted."

"But you know that it mattered a great deal," Dr. Hankolin said.

A rustle of cloth. "Worse… when they killed," said Audrey. "While doing it. Once, saw them… killing…" frightened breathing. "...while they… with him…" A soft sob. "They just… laughed!"

"You know it wasn't his fault," Dr. Hankolin soothed. "Everything that happened wasn't his fault."

"Mine," said Audrey. "He did it for me. It was my fault."

"No," said Dr. Hankolin. "It was neither of your faults. Remember that, Audrey. You did nothing wrong."

"Ran away," said Audrey. "Left him behind."

"But you're going to get him back," Dr. Hankolin soothed. "With enough help from us, I promise, you'll get the Doctor back. You two will be together, the way you're supposed to be."

A rustle of cloth. "He'll be mad," Audrey whispered. "At me. For abandoning him."

"Audrey," said Dr. Hankolin, "is the Doctor really angry at you for abandoning him? I thought you said he did this because he wanted to protect you."

Audrey said nothing.

"Can you check with the Doctor, now?" Dr. Hankolin asked. "Can you ask him if he blames you?"

A pause. "He… he says he doesn't," Audrey said, a hint of pain and distress in her voice. "For any of it."

"You went through a very traumatic experience," said Dr. Hankolin, "but you're safe, now. You escaped. And we want to help you. Both you and the Doctor."

A much longer pause.

"Hurts," Audrey whimpered.

"I know," said Dr. Hankolin. "I know. It always hurts to remember these sorts of things. You've been very brave, Audrey. Very…"

"Can't!" Audrey shouted, and it was a shout of sheer frustration this time, imbedded deep inside the panic. "Too much! Can't block it out! Just… keeps coming. More and more! Over and over! Can't think! Can't… get past…" A small sob. The rustle of clothing. "Help me."

* * *

Buffy jumped, as the door to the office creaked open, and the nurse poked her head in. "Audrey is awake."

"Did she eat anything?" Dr. Hankolin asked.

"A bowl of oatmeal," the nurse confirmed. "So far, she's managed to keep it down."

Dr. Hankolin looked relieved. "Good. Very good. I think she's making progress." He turned to Buffy. "I'll send your own psychiatric physicians a list of the foods she seems willing to eat. But you'll have to fight an uphill battle to get her to eat anything at all."

Yeah. Buffy thought she could tell why.

"Can I see Audrey?" Buffy asked.

The nurse opened her mouth to reply in the negative, but Dr. Hankolin stood up at his desk, and crossed the room in a few steps. He spoke to the nurse in quiet tones, the two consulting with one another. Then he turned back to Buffy.

"Miss Summers," he said. "I know you're concerned about finding your friend, but… Audrey is very fragile, at the moment. Please understand. I can't allow you to see her if I think your visit will harm her."

"How could I—?" Buffy started. Then stopped. Oh, right. Obviously. She could walk right in, get in Audrey's face, and demand that Audrey tell her everything about where she'd been and what had happened, right away. "I just want to see her. So she knows she'll be safe, when she gets transferred."

" _If_ she gets transferred," the nurse put in.

Dr. Hankolin gave Buffy a sympathetic smile. "We won't force Audrey to do anything she doesn't want," he explained. "If she feels she would be safer here… I can't, in good conscience, make her leave."

Buffy opened her mouth to snap something back, but closed it. And nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "Of course. No problem."

* * *

The girl was young, black-haired, with red-stained eyes, sitting in the middle of her bed, shaking all over. She winced at the sound of the new footsteps, and shuddered away from Buffy.

Dr. Hankolin walked forwards, his entire posture radiating amiability and good-heartedness. "Audrey," he said, "I'd like to introduce you to Buffy Summers. She believes that she can help you."

Audrey didn't look placated. She seemed suspicious, her eyes roaming across Buffy with a hard coldness that seemed to scream at Buffy to get back.

Buffy tried to imitate Dr. Hankolin's warmth and comfort, but she wasn't doing a very good job. In her line of work, it was more important to radiate hostility, threat, and self-confidence. Amiability and love weren't really good vampire-hunting techniques.

"Hey, Audrey," said Buffy. "You don't have to worry. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help."

Audrey didn't say anything, but huddled into herself as Buffy approached. Buffy stopped, not wanting to make the girl too uncomfortable. She hesitated. Was there anything she could say to make the girl more at ease?

_Hi, I'm a Vampire Slayer, and I'm raising an army against the people who captured you, so you don't have to worry about me being one of them!_

No, that wasn't going to work.

_We've got a place full of people who'll take you seriously about vampires and the Doctor, even though you don't know them and most of them will probably secretly be armed with garlic and a few pointy sticks, just in case there's another attack…_

Yeah, that'd work worse than the other one.

"I'm a friend of the Doctor's," Buffy told Audrey, a look of complete seriousness on her face. "I've been looking for him for the last four months. And with your help, I promise, I'll get him out." Buffy extended her hand to Audrey. "Shake on it."

Audrey hesitated. Then reached out.

And shook Buffy's hand.


	30. Chapter 30

Razor paced in front of the others, his jaw clenched, his body rigid, his eyes fixed on the floor.

"Maybe this is just how he breaks," Oliver supplied. "He starts hallucinating people that aren't really there."

"It's a trick," said Leandra. "It's got to be a trick. That's what he always does. It's what he did, right before he killed Joe."

Ed frowned. "Maybe… I mean, I know it's a stretch but… maybe he's telling the truth."

Everyone snapped their heads over to Ed.

Ed waved his hands up, in surrender. "Or not!" he insisted. "I'm just saying… you guys all claim I came up with some way to save the day, when those Slayers were coming after us. And I don't remember…"

Razor sprung on him, grabbing him by the shirt and thrusting him against the wall, eyes angry and burning. "You don't remember what?"

Ed swallowed. "I mean… sure I remember. Because I'm just that smart, and you should definitely keep me alive."

"Maybe we're all amnesiacs," muttered Leandra. "And can't remember what we've been saying or doing." A glare over at Razor. "Or maybe, Razor's lying to us, again."

Razor dropped Ed onto the floor, and spun on Leandra.

"Oh, don't give me the intimidating look!" Leandra snapped. "Ever since we got the Time Lord, it's been nothing but lies and broken promises. Immortality. Invulnerability. Not having to run anymore. Here we are! Running away! Hiding! Joe's dead. The Slayers are hacking away at our armies."

"We're still winning," Razor pointed out to her.

"For how long?" Leandra demanded. "Oh, and what about promises of an easy prisoner? It's been a few months, now, and he's still nowhere near broken."

"He's breaking," Razor said. "Slowly, but surely. I can tell."

"You promised we'd rampage through huge metropolitan centers, with humanity completely at our mercy," Oliver added. "Instead, we're terrorizing small towns that can't defend themselves. Most of them don't even have a Wal-Mart!"

"We have to reach singularity!" Razor shouted at them. "Then we will become the masters of the world."

"I think," said Leandra, "the itsy bitsy little Time Lord's been whispering in your ear. Softening you up with all his pacifist ideals."

Razor grabbed Leandra by the neck, and hoisted her up above the ground. "I am the destroyer of the world," he hissed. "The vanquisher of humanity. The annihilator of…"

"The vampire too busy screwing his favorite pet," Leandra said, "to notice that his plans are crumbling before his eyes."

Razor threw her against the opposite wall, where she impacted with a loud bang of splintering bones and cracking stone. She slipped down to the floor, looking up at Razor, gritting her teeth and waiting as her body healed itself.

"What are you going to do?" she asked. "Kill me? You need me as your second for the singularity. Or was that a lie, too?"

"If the singularity was a lie, do you really think the Time Lord would be trying so hard to stop us, now?" Razor replied. "The moment we reach singularity, he'll be powerless against us. He knows it. We know it. He's desperate."

"And until we hit that point, we're vulnerable," Ed pointed out. "He can kill us. And so can the Slayers."

Leandra got to her feet, stretching her spine as it healed within her body. "I want him broken, Razor. No more screwing around. Shattered, destroyed, and broken. You got that?"

"Here's a thought," Oliver cut in. "What if we _don't_ break him?"

Leandra stared at Oliver.

"We've been pretty good at stopping him from messing us up too badly, so far," said Oliver. "Let's just suffer with him until we hit singularity. Then it doesn't matter how much he kicks and screams — he'll still be helpless." Oliver smiled, and winked over at Leandra. "You always like them struggling, anyways, Leandra."

"The Time Lord will kill us," Leandra hissed. "And singularity is still a ways off."

"Maybe you're the one who's lying," said Razor to Leandra. "Maybe you know something we don't. Or maybe… you just want to get rid of me, and take control of the singularity yourself!"

"Maybe if I did, we'd actually get some results!" Leandra snapped.

A junior vampire — Sandy, sired only a month and a half ago — stepped into the middle of them, and shouted, "Silence!"

Everyone glanced over at her.

"What's wrong with you?" Sandy demanded. "We're all heading towards the same goal, and here you are, fighting amongst yourselves! Just because some… alien told us that we're being manipulated!"

Everyone looked at everyone else.

"I think… we _are_ being manipulated," Ed muttered.

"So what if we are?" Sandy said. "We're still going to hit that same critical instant. The world will change. A new age will begin. That will happen, because it must happen. The Time Lord is trying to alter a destiny that can't be altered! He is dividing us, making us fight one another so we won't achieve our purpose."

"Okay, brainiac," said Leandra. "If you're so smart, how do we break him?"

"It's… it's…" Sandy faltered, putting her hand up to her head. Then smiled. "It's so easy. I can't believe I didn't think of it, sooner. It's just… so obvious."

Leandra crossed her arms, waiting for the newbie to continue.

"He's not breaking because he's got faith," said Sandy. "He's sure that humanity is good, and will defeat the darkness. He's sure that his friends are out there, fighting for the side of justice. If we want to break him — really break him — we have to break his faith."

The corners of Razor's lips raised into a small grin. "Convince him that humanity isn't worth saving?"

"Yeah," said Sandy. She held her hand tighter against her head. "I… think. I just…" she stopped. Blinked. Then looked around at all the others. "No, I'm positive. It should work. It _will_ work."

Even Leandra grinned at this. She and Razor exchanged a look, then left without a word, off to arrange their next little scheme to break their alien prisoner.

Ed scratched his head, examining Sandy, who was now standing around, looking a little dazed and confused. Trying to recall when he'd ever even heard her speak, before.

"Who even was that?" Ed muttered to himself.

"Wasn't me," chimed in Joe, from just beside Ed.

Ed jumped at the voice. He spun around to face the previously dusted-vampire, but… no one was there.

* * *

"At least Buffy will be in a good mood," said Xander to the others, all gathered around the front lobby to the Slayer Institute. "I mean, now that she's one step closer to finding the Doctor."

"Or she's in a panic," Willow replied, "because she's heard what's actually been happening to him."

Jack turned to Dawn. "You got no details on anything this Audrey girl knows about the Doctor?"

"Just that she met him," said Dawn. "They thought he was a 'split personality'."

Sam's face remained somber, her breath steadily measured. "I've done this before," she said, more to herself than to anyone else. "On Ha-Olam. Whatever he's facing, now, it can't possibly be worse than that. It… just… _can't_."

Riley put an arm around his wife's shoulders, but said nothing.

Through the glass front of the building, they all watched, as a cab pulled up in front of the Slayer Institution, depositing Buffy out on their doorstep.

"She looks okay," Xander observed. "Not happy, but… okay."

Buffy paid the driver, then turned to face them through the window. And walked towards the front door.

Dawn squinted, trying to examine her sister more carefully. The steady, even footsteps, the completely emotionless face, the almost removed way she reacted to her surroundings.

Buffy opened the door.

Everyone gathered together and put on their best hopeful faces. All trying to determine what was going on, inside of Buffy's head.

"Hello, everyone," Buffy said. Her voice was quiet, but steady, calm, normal.

Dawn stepped forwards. "Did Audrey know…?"

Buffy blinked. "Oh. Yeah. She'd seen him." She walked forwards, her every step soft, smooth, evenly paced. Eyes fixed on nothing. "She's being transferred. Paperwork should be coming through, soon."

"And… the Doctor?" Sam asked. "Did you find out anything?"

Buffy stopped. Turned her head, to look at Sam. "Nothing important."

Xander frowned. "Buff," he said. "You sure you're okay?"

Buffy glanced over at Xander. "I'm fine," she said. She turned away, her every movement slow, smooth. "Totally fine."

Then she walked off.

Everyone looked at everyone else. For about a minute, no one said a word.

"Anyone else here thinking that Buffy got secretly possessed by a demon, while she was out?" asked Xander. "Or… just me?"

"Maybe she really doesn't know anything," Sam suggested.

"Or maybe she knows something she doesn't want to tell us," Willow muttered.

Dawn opened her mouth to say something, when she was cut off by the blood-curdling scream rising up from just below their feet.

"Buffy!" Dawn breathed, running down towards the basement, hopping the stairs two at a time. The others following close behind.

As they got closer and closer to Buffy's screaming, they noticed it was not desperate or frightened, but the angry, enraged, pained kind of scream, followed by bangs and shouts and the slash of metal on leather. The splintering of wood, as a very loud "THUD" rang through the air.

"In here!" Jack shouted, rounding a corner, and zeroing in on one of the work-out practice rooms. He tried the door, but it was locked.

"Out of the way!" Sam said, leveling her gun at the door, and blasting the doorknob off. It creaked open, and they all rushed in.

Buffy stood in the center of the work-out room. Now completely silent. The punching bag had fallen to the ground — not just punched, but hacked apart. Slashed to within an inch of its life and still sporting a variety of weapons sticking out of it at various angles.

Buffy let the sword in her hand fall to the ground, her entire body still shaking, her breath coming fast, her face still red and flushed from the exertion — but completely expressionless.

"Buffy?" Dawn asked.

"I'm fine," Buffy repeated, her voice flat. She didn't look at them, just fixed her eyes on the floor, and pushed past them. "Really. I told you. I'm… completely, completely fine."

And left.

Everyone looked at everyone else. Then at the fallen punching bag, and the room still echoing with Buffy's angry screams.

"Yeah," said Dawn. "Fine."

* * *

The air hung silent — deathly silent — except for the steady breathing of Anne Marie, the latest human girl the Doctor was currently trying to think up a way to rescue, as she slept on the floor of her steel cage.

Movement out of the corner of his eye, and the Doctor instinctively tensed, preparing himself for the worst, as Razor paced towards him.

"Which one are you, then?" the Doctor asked. "The real Razor, or the fake Razor?"

Razor said nothing, his gaze biting and hard, his face tensed in rage.

"Real Razor," the Doctor guessed, with a sigh. "Brilliant."

"This is your fault, Doctor," Razor whispered to him, his voice caustic and biting. "You and that… Slayer of yours!"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Fake Razor," he amended. He gave as much of a shrug as he could, given the restraints. "I'll bite. What's my fault?"

The Fake Razor didn't answer. Just glared at the Doctor, with venom in his eyes.

"Ah," said the Doctor. "You've worked out who else is keeping me here. And why."

"I've waited so long," the Fake Razor said, "plotting. Planning. Your every agony should be my greatest pleasure. Your every scream should be music to my ears. This is my revenge, and I should be enjoying it. But now…" He narrowed his eyes at the Doctor.

The Doctor just regarded the Fake Razor, curiously. "You're not secretly the Master, are you?" he asked. "Because this would be exactly like him. Great big plan — which, by the way, will torture and then kill me, if it succeeds — that goes completely wrong, at which point you come begging for my help."

"But the Master is dead," said the Fake Razor. "You watched him die."

The Doctor said nothing for a long moment. "Fair point," he admitted.

The Fake Razor just stared at the Doctor, his face white with rage, his eyes still blazing.

"Would you quit staring at me like that?" the Doctor demanded.

"You think I'm you," the Fake Razor observed. He gave a mirthless smile. "Don't you?"

The Doctor didn't answer.

"Because everything I've ever said to you," the Fake Razor continued, "everything I'll keep saying to you — are the very things you've said to yourself. A thousand times over. That you deserve this kind of torture. That you really are the Bringer of Death — have always been, across all your lives. That with the Scythe on the loose, you don't know who you can trust."

The Doctor crossed his eyes, trying to make out the faint shimmer of the psychic bubble surrounding him. The one he'd merged with, draining tendrils of his own psychic energy. And, if he wanted to be perfectly frank, there was a chance — actually, quite a large chance, given his mental landscape at the moment — that those tendrils could unify and take on this sort of non-corporeal, autonomous existence.

"Well," muttered the Doctor, "confronting evil specters of your own dark side. Suppose there are worse ways to go mad."

"Except I've been giving the vampires advice," continued the Fake Razor, "about how to wipe out humanity. That's what you're afraid of. You're afraid that, secretly, using your own psychic energy — _you're_ the one helping them."

"Sorry, did you really just come round to taunt me?" the Doctor asked. "Or was there something you wanted?"

The Fake Razor said nothing for a long moment. "I have a… proposal."

"Brilliant," the Doctor muttered. "Let me guess. I give myself up to you — unconditionally — for whatever nefarious plans you've got in store for me, or you destroy the human race. How am I doing so far?"

The Fake Razor's bitter expression didn't waver. "Twilight has been erased," he told the Doctor. "But its erasure had… certain… consequences. Spanning beyond even the terms of the contract."

" _Twilight_?" the Doctor remarked. "Wonder if anyone's mentioned that to Stephenie Meyer, yet."

"Which means that… as much as it disgusts me to say it," the Fake Razor continued, "I… need… your help."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Do you, now?"

"That's what you do," said the Fake Razor. "You wander around the universe…" with a frown of distaste, "helping people." He schooled his features, so he was impassive once more. "So. Will you help me?"

"Well, I think that rather depends," the Doctor said, "on exactly who you are."

The Fake Razor didn't answer.

"Ah," said the Doctor, with a small grin. "But you don't want to tell me that. Because I've met you before. And if I knew who you really were, I'd never help you. That it?"

"I don't like working for the side of good," said the Fake Razor. "In fact, the idea of it sickens me. But thanks to you and your prissy little Slayer, I've got no choice."

"Because you're afraid," the Doctor said. "Aren't you? Terribly, terribly afraid. But not of me. Not like those vampires keeping me captive. Oh, no. You're afraid of something else entirely."

The Fake Razor didn't answer.

"Go on then," said the Doctor, leaning back against the boulder that was currently supporting his upper torso. "What's this proposal of yours?"

"I'm prepared to release you," the Fake Razor offered. "Stop Razor and the other vampires from achieving their plans. Wipe out them and every evil, nasty thing that's ever threatened your precious human race. And leave this planet. Forever." He paused, then scowled, as if the words tasted bitter in his mouth. "You can make Earth as pure as Traken once was, for all I care."

The Doctor studied the Fake Razor, curiously. Trying to work out who or what he could possibly be. "You actually believe you can do all that?"

"Easily," said the Fake Razor. "And I will. If you do one thing for me."

"I'm listening."

"I want you," said the Fake Razor, "to go into your time machine, travel back in time, and make sure that Buffy Anne Summers is never born."

The Doctor didn't answer, just stared at the Fake Razor.

For a few seconds, there was complete and utter silence.

"A small price," the Fake Razor said, "for so great a reward. One life to save billions."

The Doctor's eyes drifted off, focusing into the distance. "One life," he muttered. "Unmade. Erased. Destroyed before it ever existed."

"That's right," agreed the Fake Razor.

Again, silence.

"Well?" asked the Fake Razor.

The Doctor looked right into the Fake Razor's eyes. And said one word:

"No."

The Fake Razor regarded the Doctor, icily. "Consider carefully, Doctor. I don't concede the Earth lightly."

"Sorry, was I not making myself clear?" the Doctor asked. "Let's try this again. No. _Never_. Wiping someone out of time so that they never existed in the first place? No matter whose life, no matter what the benefits, no matter what your deal is — my answer will always — _always_ — be no!"

The Fake Razor nodded. "In that case," he said, turning around and walking away, "I'll just take what I want. By force. And let you deal with the consequences."


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm getting bored of posting this story... and I'd honestly rather just move on to Happy Endings. Particularly since I'm pretty sure I'm losing all my readers. So I think I'm going to start posting in way bigger chunks. The rest of the November section is about 6,000 words, so I'll post that all up as a unit, next time. As for December...
> 
> I dunno. I'm tempted to do all of December in maybe 2 or 3 chapters.
> 
> How long is too long for a chapter?

Dawn was typing at her laptop, in the main library of the Institute, surrounded by the others, all doing research. Trying to come up with something they could use to their advantage.

Dawn sent off her email, and checked her inbox. New message — about Audrey's transfer. Typed transcripts of some… recordings that had been given to the police.

Dawn clicked the attachment.

Then froze, as her eyes read the words on the page.

"Oh, God," she breathed. She stumbled backwards, her chair tumbling against the floor as she stood up, her eyes still on the screen. "Oh, God."

Everyone else in the library was staring at her, now.

"I think," Dawn said, turning and darting off to the bathroom, "I'm going to be sick."

The others looked at one another. Then ventured over to the computer screen. And read, for themselves, exactly what Dawn had seen.

* * *

They sat around a large conference table in the library, no one saying anything for a long moment, no one even managing to look at one another. Eyes all fixed on the dark wood grain of the table.

"I'm going to kill them," Jack said.

"Get in line," Dawn muttered.

"And then," Jack continued, "I'm going to gather up their bones and have Willow resurrect them, just so I can kill them all over again!"

Sam slammed her hands down on the table, glaring at Jack and Dawn. "I want him out of there!" she insisted. "Now! And if this Audrey person isn't willing to tell us where he is, I'm sure as hell going to make her!"

"Good luck," said Dawn. "You read the transcript. She's seriously disturbed."

"Oh, yeah," said Sam. "Because the only person to ever escape the vampires' lair 'just happens' to be too insane to tell us where he is. And that's just a coincidence!"

Xander frowned. "This is all… wrong."

"Like with the Initiative," Willow agreed. "The Doctor should have escaped by now."

"Shouting at Audrey isn't going to get her to remember any faster," Jack told Sam. "I say we catch one of the TBVs, and force it to tell us."

"Torture," Dawn muttered.

"They deserve it!" Jack snapped.

"We can barely even kill the TBVs!" Sam insisted. "What do you mean, catch them?"

"Sam's right," Willow put in. "Even if we find out where the Doctor is, he's going to be protected by the most invulnerable, super-powered TBVs of them all. We've got no plan."

"I don't need a plan," Jack gritted through his teeth. "I just need a very big gun."

"Yeah, gun," said Xander. "Because if I'm caught in a cave with unbeatable bloodsucking monsters from the worst depths of my imagination, the one weapon I'd ask for is the one we know — for sure — doesn't work." He gave a little shrug. "Might as well go in there armed with a feather duster."

The others ignored Xander, though. They were too busy shouting at each other. Their angry voices filling the hall, their worry and fear flooding through their every gesture, their words lost in the chaos of un-listening anger.

The thwack of a weapon slicing through the table, splintering the wood on impact, silenced them all. No, not just a weapon.

The Scythe.

Buffy stood, at the head of the table, her arms crossed, her demeanor calm and controlled, but with a frazzled, hard anger underneath it that seemed to course through every cell of her body.

"There are vampires out there," she reminded them, "that aren't being slain."

Everyone hesitated.

"Buffy," started Dawn, "we—"

"I know," said Buffy. "And we're getting him out." She looked out at all of them, in turn. "But we've got a war to fight, too. A human race to save. I'm not going to let that stop."

"It's the Doctor's blood that's making them able to fight against us," said Sam. "If we get him out…"

"Then they don't get any less invulnerable," Buffy cut in. "They still have an army capable of taking a pretty big chunk out of the human population. And I'm guessing they've stockpiled some extra blood, just in case."

"She's right," said Jack. "We save the Doctor the way he'd want to be saved. By saving the world, him, everyone here, reviving Joanna back in LA, fixing all problems and doing everything at once — no matter how impossible it seems."

"We can't do all that," Sam said.

Willow gave a little shrug. "Actually… this kind of thing is sort of Buffy's… specialty. You know. Winning impossible fights."

Buffy pointed at Jack. "You. Grab a gun and a Slayer, and go out on TBV patrol." She turned to Willow and Xander. "Research and magic stuff." She turned to Sam. "And you. Riley knows something he's not telling us. I want you to get it out of him."

Sam saluted.

Buffy turned to Dawn. "And you…"

"I'm going monster-fighting with Jack," said Dawn, giving her sister a challenging look.

"No," said Buffy, throwing Dawn a gun. "You're going monster-fighting with me."

Dawn caught the gun, a little surprised.

"One question," Sam put in. "If we're saving the Doctor his way, does that mean we're going to keep all the TBVs holding him alive?"

Buffy looked over at Sam, her face momentarily flashing with the anger she felt, deep inside.

"No," she said. "That part we're doing my way."

* * *

"Don't!" the Doctor warned.

But Jeanette, the latest human hostage, had had enough. She'd had enough of the terror, the pain, the degradation and humiliation. She'd had enough of watching them do — everything that they did — to this guy who very obviously didn't deserve it. She'd had enough of these sick, twisted vampires harming people, and harming her, and never giving her a chance to fight back.

But this little game of theirs — they'd given her a pure iron sword, and a one-on-one match against a vampire of their own choosing. The vampire that Jeanette was about to decapitate.

She ignored the Doctor, and with one stroke, sliced the head off the vampire's shoulders.

But… he didn't turn to dust.

The head rolled down by her feet, the blood pouring out from his neck. Human blood. Pumping blood. Jeanette dropped the sword, and stumbled back.

Nearby, the other vampires were laughing at her.

"That… that was…" Jeanette whispered.

"A human being," Razor confirmed. "One of the pillars of his community. Charitable, kind, compassionate — or so I've been told. When we invaded, he gave himself up to save a group of strangers."

"But… but he…" Jeanette shook her head. The man had been trying to kill her. He'd been crazed, grabby, filled with anger and animosity and hatred. He'd practically groped her, earlier. "He was a monster."

"It's our new little game," Leandra said. She shifted her eyes over to the Doctor. "Don't you like it?" She leaned into Razor, her head against his chest. "Razor thought it up. We call it 'playing Doctor'."

"'The Doctor'," Razor said. "He goes around the universe. Making people better. Making people like him." His grin widened, pride shining through his face. "But because you're busy destroying the human race, I decided to take over. Remake humanity in your image — as my Bringers of Death."

Jeanette had had enough. She swiped up the sword from the ground, her eyes fixed on Razor. And charged at him.

Faster than she could register, she found herself disarmed and restrained by Razor, his greedy yellow eyes boring into her own, as she struggled to break free.

"Look at you," he snarled. "Young, pretty, spirited, and brave. Tender-hearted. Compassionate." His eyes gleamed. "You'll never forget your first kill."

"That's enough, Razor," the Doctor demanded. "You've had your fun. Now let her go."

"Let her go?" Leandra asked. She gave a fake pout. "But we want to kill her. We so love what comes next."

"I said," the Doctor warned them, his voice stone cold, "let her go."

Razor glanced over at Leandra, a smile on his face. "I think we've made him angry."

"I like them angry," said Leandra. "I like them angry and desperate and struggling. They're more delicious that way." She fixed her eyes on Jeanette. " _So_ much more delicious."

Jeanette fought harder to free herself from Razor's grip.

The Doctor struggled to pull himself free, but the restraints held fast. "Leandra!"

"Impatient?" asked Leandra. "Don't worry. You'll get your turn, soon enough."

"Oh, but Leandra!" Razor insisted. "Don't say that! He's been sending messages to all his Slayer friends. They're coming to rescue him."

"Too bad they're only rescuing him," Leandra agreed. "And not the rest of the human race. After all, who cares if humanity is wiped out? So long as they get the Doctor back, they've achieved their goals."

"The Slayer and her Scythe," Razor agreed. His eyes flicking back over to the Doctor, amusement spreading through him, as he noticed the Doctor's instinctive reaction to the weapon's name. "And I never thought I'd find any weapon you despised more than guns."

The Doctor said nothing. But he seemed to calm, a little, at Razor's words, and regain some of his former composure.

"You're going to keep Jeanette alive," he told the vampires, "because you want me to remember that I couldn't stop her. You want me to see her mourn. You want me to see how helpless I really am." He set his jaw. "Now let her go."

Razor's good humor dropped a hair. He threw Jeanette into her cage, clicking the padlock shut as she thudded against the steel bars at the other end.

"I'll keep her," he said. He turned, his eyes locked on the Doctor. "But only because I'm not done with you, yet. And I'll need her around to make sure you cooperate."

Then he spun around, and left, Leandra by his side.

The Doctor looked over at Jeanette. "Got it?"

Jeanette held up her hand, the key to her cell tightly clenched inside her fist.

"Right! Well, then. Time to get out," the Doctor urged her. "Go on!"

Jeanette put the key into the padlock, then hesitated. Her eyes fixed on the Doctor. "I… don't have the key for your… you know."

Layers upon layers of restraints and safeguards and psychic bubbles.

"Everyone who's ever gone back for me is dead," the Doctor told her. "Get out of here. Do what you do best. Be brave, be brilliant. Bring the fight to the vampires, and take back the Earth."

"But if I don't get you out of here, Razor said he'd…" Jeanette shivered. "To you. Again."

"Less chance of it actually happening, if you escape," the Doctor told her. "Now go."

Jeanette twisted the key in the lock, and snuck out of the cage. She gave one last look at the Doctor, then ran to the exit.

"I'll be back," she promised. "I'm just going to get help!"

The Doctor stared after her, waiting for the moment the failsafe mechanisms would kick in, alerting the vampires that the Doctor had messed with the alarm systems, and sending them all running after Jeanette.

"Help," he repeated. Thinking about the Slayer. The Oblivion Scythe. And the fate of the human race.

So many lies. From so many sources. Too many to sort through, not enough data — stuck in here — to figure out which one was correct. Lies upon lies upon lies, and no one he knew he could trust.

But the Slayer had the Scythe. He knew that for a fact.

"No one left," the Doctor muttered, "who can help me, now."

* * *

Just like every time she fell asleep. Always the same nightmare, ever since Sunnydale had collapsed. Ever since Spike had…

_(Your nightmares will come true.)_

"You're better than this," the Doctor pleaded with her, once again, as she wrapped him up in chains. "You don't have to do this. You know that this is wrong."

Buffy paused. A handcuff clutched tightly in her fist.

Then she threw it onto the ground.

"You're right," she said, meeting his eyes. "This is wrong. I can't do this."

He smiled at her — that trusting, perky grin.

"Because this isn't enough," Buffy said.

The grin faltered. "Elizabeth—"

"You'll never be mine," Buffy told him. "Not really. Not even when I lock you up and make sure you never leave me."

"Exactly!" the Doctor said.

"Because you don't know," Buffy continued, "what it's like." She leaned forwards, and whispered into his ear, "To be dead."

He jerked away from her, his eyes wide. He tried to struggle, tried to break free, but couldn't. "I know what it's like," he insisted, when he realized that he couldn't run. "I've died before. Just like you! Died and then come back."

"That's not what I meant!" Buffy said. "You know what it's like to die. You don't know what it's like to _be_ dead. To feel dead and alone and removed from everyone and everything, hoping and praying that you'll find the one man in the universe who can make you feel alive again."

The Doctor said nothing, but there was a hint of real fear in his eyes.

_Your nightmares will come true._

"But you're here now," said Buffy, leaning into him. Feeling the warmth of his body, heating her own. "Here to save me. Because that's what you do."

"Then let me save you," the Doctor said. "Let me help you. Please."

"I don't want you to save me!" Buffy insisted. "I don't want you to do anything. I just want you. Always. _Always_." She stepped in closer. Stroked his cheek. Looked deep into his eyes. "I love you," she whispered. "So much. I've felt so dead, inside, without you."

She leaned in, and kissed him. On the lips. Along his jaw. Down his neck.

"Stay with me," she whispered, as she felt her face morph, almost instinctively. "Die with me."

And bit down.

_Your nightmares will come true._

His blood running through her. Warming her. His very soul like sunlight, gliding across her fingers, burning yet so beautiful, and she loved him, loved him, because he thought he could save her, even now, letting himself die beneath her.

_Your nightmares will come true!_

Buffy woke up screaming.

* * *

Spike hesitated, his hands hovering over the Amulet that Angel had just left… lying around. Joanna was out for the count. Angel was out of leads. And, as far as he could tell, back in Cleveland, the Slayers were fighting a losing battle.

It was only a matter of time before Buffy died.

Spike reached forwards, once more, then pulled his hand back. He could still remember the last time he'd done this, during the Final Battle of the Hellmouth. How he'd stepped into that ray of sunlight, felt its warmth upon his face, as the Amulet buzzed with power upon his chest. And then… the bursts of light streaming from the Amulet, destroying all the Turok-Han vampires nearby, draining the last of the energy from the Hellmouth, as it consumed him, and then…

Spike remembered dying.

(Just as Buffy might be dying, somewhere, because he was too much of a coward to be her Champion, again.)

"To hell with it!" Spike muttered, grabbing the Amulet. He shoved it around his neck, then strode outside, into the newly breaking dawn. "You only die three times."

He walked out, his hands open, staring up at the brightening sky. "All right, sunlight!" he shouted. "Give me your best shot!"

And just like before, he felt the power running through the Amulet. Felt it buzzing with life. He looked down, and watched it glow.

Then it gave a small whine, and conked out. Like a car that had just run out of petrol.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Spike shouted, as he felt his skin catch fire. He jerked out of the sunlight, rolling across the ground, trying to stop the flames.

The cool foam of the fire extinguisher put them out.

Spike looked up, and found Angel standing nearby, holding the fire extinguisher. "Let me guess," said Angel. "It didn't work."

Spike snatched the Amulet, and threw it at Angel. "For the last time," he said, "no more bloody amulets!"

* * *

Joanna lay, comatose, in the hospital, machines monitoring her every life-sign. It was nighttime — there were no visitors allowed — but one ghostly figure stood by the sidelines, watching. A figure with big ears, a leather jacket, and close-cropped hair.

The air folded, beside him, and another figure emerged. A girl, blond, determined, with fierce blue eyes and an athletic build.

"We have to talk," she said.

The man sighed, and put his hands into his jacket pockets. "So it's you. Fantastic." He looked her up and down. "Chose the desktop theme for me, then?"

The image of Buffy gave a cruel smile. "Don't you like it? I thought you'd do anything she asked you to." She paused, and reflected. "Or… is that just because you feel guilty over what _you_ did to _her_?"

"Believe it or not," said the man who wasn't the Doctor, "I've got better things to do with my time than exchange third-rate quips with the universe's most obnoxious schoolyard bully. So if you don't mind—"

"I know your secret," the image of Buffy cut in.

The man paused, a moment. "Don't know what you mean."

"The Scythe was a good distraction," the image of Buffy continued. "With something as powerful as the Scythe around, I almost didn't notice what you did at all."

The man knocked his hand against his own head. "Nope," he said. "Still got no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't play games with me!" snapped the image of Buffy. "The Doctor's being tortured, you've promised Buffy to stop it. But… nope! Not one word of protest. Not one plea. Not one round of begging."

"Got my dignity, me," said the man. "Don't need to beg. Can stop this myself."

"Come on," groaned the image of Buffy. "You know you _can't_."

The man said nothing.

"I can guess what's really going on," said the image of Buffy. "What you did. What it means. I can even guess why." She raised her voice, so that it sounded sweet and innocent. "Because Buffy Summers asked you to."

"She makes lots of wishes. Past, present, and future. Not sure which you mean."

"And you did it, even though it could mean the complete destruction of everything," the First snapped. "The end of the universe. The end of all universes! The end of you, of me, of everything and everyone in existence. You irresponsible idiot!"

The man grinned. "Look at you," he said. "Playing the hero, for once. Wanting to save the universe. Like the change."

The image of Buffy advanced on him, eyes blazing. "I'm sick and tired of doing 'good' things," she snapped. "I very nearly saved the Doctor's life, just now. And the Earth! All because of what you did!"

"Offered to save his life?" asked the man, amused. "What? Afraid he'd trick you, if you tried to force him?"

"I'm not the only one who wants to see the Doctor suffer," said the image of Buffy. "As it turns out. And I'm not about to risk helping anyone else with their plans."

The man froze. His face grave, pale. But said nothing.

"You know that already," said the image of Buffy. "You probably know more about it than I do. At first, I thought this was all just some ploy to kill the Doctor. But now that I've learned your little secret," the First gave a smile, "I think this whole thing is actually about _you_."

"Do me a favor and shove off, would you?" the man snapped.

"Oh, is the Doctor's torture pulling at your poor human conscience?" the image of Buffy asked, with a theatrical pout. "Is your weak little human heart crumbling at the thought that your friends are suffering, and it's all your fault?"

The man said nothing.

"At least the Doctor begs, when others suffer and he's helpless to stop it," said the image of Buffy. "What do you do? Nothing. Nothing at all. You claim compassion, goodness, virtue — but inside, all you are is greed. Ambition. Revenge."

The man shot the First a pitying look. "Oh, Mr. The First," he sighed. "I wish that you knew — even just for a few minutes — what it's like to have a human soul. So you can understand what it means to love."

The First choked on a laugh. "Love? Seriously? People are being tortured and dying all around you, and that's the best you can come up with?"

"To love someone so strongly," the man continued, "that you'd do anything — give up anything, make any sacrifice — to keep them alive and safe." He turned to the First, his eyes piercing, his anger radiating through him. "Lay one finger on her," he warned, his voice low and biting, "and I swear. I'll destroy you."

He strode past the image of Buffy, and faded into the air.

The First just laughed, staring at where he'd been. "Like you could even touch me!" it said, popping out of reality.

* * *

"Oh, God," said Riley, his face growing a little paler. "He said… but I never thought…" He sat down on a nearby chair, his head in his hands, staring at the ground.

Sam reached out a reassuring hand, then stopped. Hesitated.

"What did he say?" Sam asked, instead.

"I didn't… I thought…" Riley faltered. "I knew him. In… his future. And he mentioned — he said he knew what it was like, to be needed and desired by vampires. But I swear, I just thought… he was talking about… prostitution! I had no idea… I couldn't even have imagined…"

Sam sat down beside her husband, tucking her hands between her knees. Trying to reconcile Riley's garbled speech with the Doctor she, herself, knew. And failing. (Prostitution? Vampires? Honestly?)

"There's something you're not telling me," Sam said. "About you and the Doctor."

Riley didn't answer.

"I know you two weren't friends," Sam continued. "That's been obvious from the start."

"How do you—?"

"The way you jump at any chance to take down miscreants calling themselves 'the Doctor'," Sam said. "The way you reacted, when I told you I knew him." She looked away. "The way you tried to convince me not to come here, when we found out he was in trouble."

Riley took a deep breath. "Sam…"

"But I just can't understand it!" Sam insisted, turning back to him. "You two should have been friends — allies! You're both noble, heroic, wonderful people, who are always compelled to take action and save others. You both fight to defend the Earth and humanity. You're the two bravest men I've ever met. But whenever I mention him…" Sam stared at Riley. "…I almost get the feeling you… _hate_ him."

"I don't…" Riley shook his head, still unable to meet her eyes. "I don't hate him. Anymore." He hesitated. "I don't think."

Sam took Riley's hands in her own, trying to get him to look at her. "Riley," she pleaded. "Tell me. What's going on? What happened at the Initiative? What did the Doctor tell you about the events happening right now?"

Riley took a deep breath.

And told her everything.

* * *

Joanna lay on the hospital bed, unconscious. The blinds pulled closed across the windows around her, the usually sunlit little room now draped in shadow.

"Nothing?" asked Spike.

"Nothing," Angel replied. "The doctors say there's nothing wrong with her. No symptoms. No causes. Just… nothing."

"That's doctors for you," muttered Spike. He paced the room, his eyes fixed on Joanna. Then he flicked them over to Angel. "Bloodfasting?"

"It has to be," Angel agreed. He took the small stone he'd discovered, earlier, out of his pocket. The stone that Joanna had had on her, when she'd collapsed. "Now that we know this had nothing to do with it."

"No use arguing with the truth," Spike said. "It wasn't the rats. Wasn't the stone. Wasn't magic. Wasn't physical. She's got a psychic link to the Doctor. Only one reason this could happen."

Angel said nothing.

"The Doctor is dead," Spike said. "She's reacting to that. Better face it, sometime." He crossed his arms, and muttered, "Buffy's going to be in a right state when she finds out."

"He could have regenerated," Angel proposed. "You never know."

"If he'd regenerated, he'd have taken out Razor and the other leaders of this vampire invasion rubbish," Spike pointed out. "We'd definitely know about that."

Angel said nothing.

"Face it," said Spike. "He's dead. Dead for good. And he made a bloody mess of the world before he went out."

Angel shook his head. "He can't be dead," he insisted. "We've still got that Amulet, remember? The one that's supposed to be in the Wolfram and Hart archives, back in the past. If he'd actually died, for good, history would already have gotten rewritten."

"You keep telling yourself that, mate," said Spike. "Lots of time travelers still alive out there, you know."

Angel frowned. "Like who?" he asked. "Who else could have taken the Amulet back in time?"

Spike shrugged. "Dunno. But my money's on the Witch."

Angel paused. Realizing that… actually… Willow might just be a powerful enough witch to do something like that.

"Doctor's dead," Spike said. "Joanna's never waking up. Might as well move on, and try to save the world."

Angel nodded. He placed the small stone in Joanna's outstretched palm, and closed her hand around it. Then straightened, and turned back to Spike.

"Better break the news to Buffy," he said.

From behind him, there was the sudden rustle of blankets, and a gasp of breath. Angel and Spike both spun around, to discover the stone in Joanna's hand glowing, as she jerked upright, and opened her eyes.

"What…? Where…?" Joanna held a hand up to her head, and winced. "Ow…"

"Dead, you say?" Angel muttered, racing over to Joanna. He explained, in a few short sentences, what had happened, trying to get a hold of the stone that had, somehow, brought Joanna back.

"No, no," said Joanna, when Angel had finished. "This isn't because of the Doctor. It was like…" She rubbed her head, again, then realized she was still clutching something in her hand. She put her hand down, opened it, and stared at the stone.

"Lucky we put it there," Spike said.

"Lucky," Joanna repeated, her voice deadpan.

Then, in a burst of strength, Joanna threw it across the room, the stone shattering into little tiny pieces as it hit the opposite wall.

"Luck!" she shouted, anger in her eyes. "There's no luck! Someone's screwing around with us — with everything. Someone wants the Doctor where he is — wants us where we are — and wants Buffy doing whatever the hell she's doing."

"And wanted you out for the count," said Spike. "Until the right time."

"Why?" asked Angel.

"Because I worked it out," said Joanna. "The TBVs _aren't_ smart. Someone else has been telling them what to do! This entire war, between us and the TBVs, it's like a kid playing with toy soldiers. And we're the toy soldiers!"

Angel and Spike both looked at each other.

Joanna sighed, then stared off into the distance, her mind racing. "Someone told me," she said. "Just before I passed out. That I shouldn't work this stuff out, yet. That Sam Jones had…" She drifted off. Then turned to Angel and Spike. "My research!" she cried. "And Carolyn's notes. What happened to…?"

"It all got… destroyed," Angel confessed. "Before we found you. It's gone."

Spike grimaced.

"Then that's it," said Joanna. "I must have been close. About to work something out that would have screwed up the master plan. Saved the Doctor. But whoever's running the show doesn't want him saved."

"Who's running the show?" asked Angel.

"No idea," said Joanna.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Spike chimed in. "Same person who'd want to make sure that Amulet never travelled back in time."

They all looked at one another. Realizing that the clues were all there — torturing the Doctor, the Amulet, the brand new army of unstoppable vampires, even the 'Bringer of Death' title — and they'd been stupid enough to overlook them.

"But why hasn't the First killed him by now?" Angel asked.

"He's the Doctor," said Joanna. "He's not that easy to kill. Maybe the First just can't."

"Or doesn't want to," ventured Angel. "Wants to use the Doctor for something else."

"We better warn Buffy about this," said Spike.

But they all knew their suspicions had to be correct. That whoever was calling the shots had a huge amount of power. Because they tried to call Buffy. Over and over again.

And discovered they couldn't.

* * *

"He still isn't broken," Oliver pointed out.

The information didn't dent Razor's good mood. He waved it off with a grin and a shrug. "No. But this was the first time that he arranged for his human to get away, without even trying to get away himself."

"His faith in his friends is shattering," Leandra added. "His faith in humanity is shattering. And by the time he learns that we've been lying to him, we'll have reached singularity. And it'll be too late."

"Which means he's staying here, on purpose," Ed told them. "Because he thinks he's the only one who can destroy us."

"One more hostage," said Razor, "and he'll be broken. I promise."

Oliver looked dubious. He turned to Leandra. "You really believe this? One hostage could tip him over the edge?"

"Of course," said Leandra. Her smile widened. "Provided it's the _right_ hostage."

* * *

Willow was the one who spotted Sam, first. Sam was sitting on one of the chairs in the front lobby of the Slayer Institution, her body slumped, staring straight ahead, the color drained from her face.

Willow went up to her, and offered her a sympathetic smile. "It's hard on all of us," she said. "Knowing the truth about what's happening to the Doctor."

"Yes," said Sam, her voice very quiet. "The truth."

Willow dropped the smile, analyzing Sam carefully. And realized that — maybe, just maybe — Sam wasn't talking about the information they'd just discovered from Audrey, about the Doctor's captivity.

"Riley told you something else?" Willow guessed.

Sam said nothing.

Willow's eyes widened, as she suddenly understood. "Riley told you _everything_ else," she said.

Sam took a deep breath. "I love him," she said. "I really, really love him." Her eyes fixed on the ground, as she tried to stop her hands from shaking. "He forgave me for not telling him the truth about me and the Doctor. It's my turn to forgive him for…"

Willow waited for her to go on, but Sam couldn't say the words.

"It's okay to be mad about it, you know," Willow offered. "What Riley did was pretty despicable. We all said it, at the time."

"I just… can't… exactly… believe it," Sam admitted. She looked up at Willow. "I know Riley. I know that, no matter what, he'd always help someone in trouble. He's so kind, so thoughtful, so heroic and noble and determined to do what's right. How could he possibly…?"

"Well, there was kind of a big jealousy thing going on," Willow provided. "And Professor Walsh was giving him super mind-controlling drugs, at the time, trying to turn him into a remorseless killing machine. So… maybe that had something to do with it."

Sam said nothing for a moment. "Riley didn't want to come here," she admitted. "When we first found out what was going on."

Willow wasn't sure what to say to this.

"It made sense," said Sam. "We'd been tracking a swarm of monsters, and Riley thought we should stay, and make sure we'd gotten all of them. After all, we were already there, and if any were left alive, they'd breed and we'd wind up in a bigger mess than when we started. The others were late, because… they were finishing up the job, for me and Riley."

Willow nodded.

"And Riley was right," said Sam. "It was our duty to stay, destroy the monsters, and help humanity. Even Buffy said that — you can't save the Doctor without saving the world, or he'll never forgive you. I know that." She took a deep breath. "But I just… couldn't… stand it!"

Willow nodded, again.

"That mental picture of what he looked like, after I rescued him on Ha'olam," said Sam, "it just kept replaying itself, over and over again, in my head. Seeing him so… shattered, defeated, so broken! I couldn't…" She sucked in another breath. "When it got too much, I sat Riley down, and told him the truth. About me and the Doctor."

"And made him come with you?" Willow guessed.

"No," said Sam. "I just told him that I couldn't stand it anymore, and I was leaving so I could rescue the Doctor. Now. I told Riley he could come with me, or stay behind. Riley… gave it some thought. But he chose to come, in the end." She gave a small, sad smile. "Riley was the one who told me to contact Buffy, in the first place. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known where to start."

"Maybe Riley really has changed," Willow offered. "I mean, since then, basically all the rest of us have changed. He could have changed, too."

Sam didn't answer.

"You're still mad at him, though," Willow observed.

"I just found out that my husband purposely locked up my best friend for two months, and stood aside while he was tortured," said Sam. "That's not the kind of thing you can just let go. I mean, I know we all make mistakes, but this…" She shook her head.

"Well, I don't know about Riley," Willow said. "But Faith tried to feed us all to a giant snake. I tried to kill every single person on the face of the Earth. And I'm betting a lot of those Initiative guys you've been hanging out with were personally responsible for torturing the Doctor while he was locked up. We've all made some pretty horrible mistakes, in the past. And now we're all here, fighting for good." Willow shrugged. "Change is possible."

Sam said nothing. She still seemed in a state of depressed shock, and Willow figured that would probably take a while to get over.

"Buffy loves the Doctor more than anything," Willow told her. "And Buffy forgave Riley. For all of it." She turned, to walk back to her office. "I just thought you should know that."

Sam said nothing for a long moment. But as Willow was about to leave the lobby, Sam called out, "Wait!"

Willow looked back over her shoulder.

Sam was standing, facing Willow, her hand outstretched. "Riley… said something else," she confessed. "When the Doctor — in his own future — mentioned this incident to Riley, the Doctor said… millions of people died."

Willow blinked. Then blinked again. "But millions haven't died. Not even close."

"Not yet," said Sam.


	32. Chapter 32

"No!" the Doctor shouted, yanking on his chains, as Razor led the new hostage into his line of sight. His chains shuddered under his force, but still held him fast. He tried again, but nothing. "You can't do this. Razor! You can't!"

Razor ran a hand through the honey-brown hair of their latest victim. The girl squirmed, and tried to slap Razor's hand away.

"She was trying to organize the town to fight back against us," Razor said. "Such a brave, clever little girl. And only twelve years old."

The Doctor watched, as the child — for she was so young, too young for this place, too young for the horrors and torments that Razor was about to inflict — was pushed and sealed into the cage, the girl still banging at the bars and shouting to be released.

"Someone else," the Doctor insisted. "Anyone else! But not a child! You can't do this to a child!"

"We need a hostage to make sure you cooperate," Razor told the Doctor. "For your punishment. She was the one most suitable for our purposes. We chose her."

"I'll cooperate," the Doctor promised. "I give you my word. I'll do whatever you say, willingly. But not her."

Oliver slouched against the side of the cage that held the trapped girl. "Keep us amused, Time Lord," he said, "and maybe we won't touch her at all."

Razor nodded over at Ed. "Put up the tertiary barrier," he instructed. "It's time our two prisoners got better acquainted." He glanced over at the Doctor, a twinkle in his eyes. "After all, it must sting so much more, when we catch your little humans, after you've taken the time to promise you'll get them out of this."

Then they turned, and left.

The Doctor glanced over at the girl, trying to give her his most reassuring smile. "It's all right," he told her. "You're going to be okay. Trust me."

The girl ignored him.

She just kept striking out against the bars, screaming at the vampires, until the screams turned into violent, passionate sobbing, and she curled up, on the cage floor.

"Dead," she whispered. "All dead. They just… killed… everyone!"

"I know," said the Doctor. He'd heard this all before — from everyone he met in here. "I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry."

The girl's crying slowed, as she seemed to notice that she wasn't alone. She looked up at the Doctor, her body still shaking from exhaustion, passion, and… terror, the Doctor assumed.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor said. "And I promise, I'll put an end to this." Somehow.

The girl studied him, carefully, her eyes peering through the darkness.

"What's your name?" the Doctor asked.

"You're not the Doctor," the girl said, ignoring his question. She leaned her head against the bars in the corner of her cage, her eyes drifting down to the ground. "The Doctor doesn't exist. He's just… a story for babies."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"

"And even if he isn't, you're too young to be him," said the girl.

Now it was the Doctor's turn to examine the girl more carefully. Trying, in vain, to jog some memory of her. Had he met her before? In some other life? Or perhaps — maybe even — a future one?

If he had met her before, he couldn't remember her.

"What's your name?" he asked, again.

"Susie," said the girl.

"Susie," the Doctor repeated. Frantically searching his memory for a Susie. "Susie." Nope. Nothing. He gave her a friendly smile. "Nice name — Susie. Like it. So, Susie. Tell me. You've met the Doctor before?"

"The Doctor's just a story!" Susie gritted through her teeth. "He's not real!" Her hand clenched the bars to her cage a little tighter. Then, in a smaller voice, she added, "If he was real, he would have stopped all this. Like when he saved the Thals, on Skaro."

"Skaro?" the Doctor said.

Now that narrowed it down a bit. Almost none of his companions had ever visited Skaro. And of those, fewer still had met the Thals.

"These… stories you mentioned," the Doctor said. "About… Skaro and all that. You were told these by… a parent?"

Susie shook her head. "Mom said they were all made up," she said. "Grandma's a historian. She was just making history interesting. With the French Revolution and the Aztecs and stuff." She shrugged. "The stories about Skaro and Marinus and all the other planets were just… I don't know. Make believe."

"Marinus," the Doctor repeated. "The Aztecs. The French Revolution." He stared at the girl, as everything began to drop into place. Where the girl had heard about him. Why she thought he was supposed to look older. Even her name. "Your… grandparents. Wouldn't happen to be… Barbara and Ian Chesterton?"

Susie snapped her head up, her eyes wide. "How did you…?"

"Both of whom travelled around time and space in a blue police box," the Doctor continued. "With an old man — an alien — known only as 'the Doctor', and his granddaughter, whom everyone called, 'Susan'."

Susie edged away from him, but her mobility was limited inside the cage. "How…?"

The Doctor grinned at her. "I'm the Doctor," he said, again. "Hello!"

Susie stared at him, her mouth dropping open.

Then she shook her head. "No, no, that isn't…"

"Tell me," the Doctor said. "Does your grandmother still have that bracelet the emperor Nero gave her?"

Susie's eyes widened even further. "You know about that."

"Know it all," said the Doctor. "Because I was there."

From some ways away, Razor, overhearing the conversation, felt his smile widen. Leandra's grip around his arm tightened, with her excitement.

They looked at one another. And it was clear that, however unintentionally, they'd chosen the perfect person to break the Doctor. A child who had such faith in him, had heard such stories, whose grandparents the Doctor himself had known.

They'd gotten lucky.

Very lucky.

"Perfect," said Leandra.

"Perfect," agreed Razor.

* * *

"How are you doing, here?" Buffy asked Audrey, as she approached.

Audrey was just getting settled, in the psychiatric wing of the Slayer Institute. She had wanted to start talking to Buffy right away, but it had become apparent, in the first few of these meetings, that Audrey still had a lot of trauma to work through, before she could tell them anything useful.

Buffy had tried her best. Tried to ease Audrey into it. Make sure Audrey felt comfortable. Make sure Audrey knew that everyone here was on her side.

Audrey huddled, knees tucked up under her chin, on one end of a sofa. She looked over at Buffy, trying to stop herself from shaking, but unable to.

"They… believe me," she whispered. "They all believe me. About the vampires."

"Of course we believe you," said Buffy. "Vampires are real. The Doctor is real. You might be traumatized, but you're not insane, Audrey."

Audrey squeezed her eyes shut. "Can't stop it," she said. "Playing over and over again. All mixed up. Stuck. In my head. So much, too much! Hurts! Can't stop… seeing… hearing…" Her voice shook, her lower lip trembling, and she huddled in closer.

Buffy put an arm around Audrey. "You're safe, here," she said. "I promise. And we're going to make sure the Doctor gets here, safely, too."

"You're…" Audrey frowned, in concentration, as if trying to dredge up a thought thrown deep into a chasm of her own mind. "…the Slayer."

"One of many Vampire Slayers," Buffy affirmed, repeating herself just as she did every time she met with Audrey. "This is the Slayer Institution. We have everything here. A school — to train girls to fight vampires. A hospital — filled with doctors and specialists who know about monster-related injuries and Slayer physiology. A psychiatric department — so that all those people who've been wrongly assumed to be crazy, because they've seen vampires, can wind up somewhere they'll be believed."

Every time Buffy explained it to Audrey, the girl seemed to retain more and more of it. The girl wasn't stupid — at least, Buffy didn't think so — but it was as if there was too much other stuff cluttering up her brain, and she couldn't retain the new information.

"And you're… at the middle of all of it," said Audrey. "Running it."

"That's right," Buffy agreed. "The center point in a sort of… worldwide… network… of do-gooder monster-fighters!"

"The center point. Like Razor," Audrey muttered, "and the singularity."

Singularity. Buffy felt a shudder run across her spine, as she recalled hearing that phrase before. In that other world — where the Doctor had turned evil, and the First had taken over his body. The First had mentioned — a singularity.

It had stuck in her mind.

"What do you mean, singularity?" Buffy asked. "What's a singularity?"

Audrey looked up. A frown on her face. "I… don't know. I… don't know why I said that."

"Did Razor say it?" Buffy asked her. "Did it come up, while you were imprisoned?"

Audrey closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. "I just… no. Yes. I don't know. It's…" She winced. "Hurts. To think about it."

Buffy bit her lip. Trying to think of how far she could push this, without hurting Audrey further. "Can you remember… and it's okay if you don't, but… do you have any idea what it means?" she asked. "What Razor's planning to do with it? What it has to do with the Doctor?"

Audrey knotted her brow in intense concentration. "I… no," she confessed. "I didn't hear it. Wasn't me. It was… _him_. I think. The 'Doctor' personality. Inside my head."

Oh, geeze. Those psychiatrists back at that other place had really screwed Audrey up.

"Audrey," said Buffy, very calmly. "Listen to me. You don't have a split personality. The Doctor isn't in your head. He's real."

Audrey stared at Buffy, looking so lost and confused.

"I've met the Doctor," Buffy assured her. "I know, for a fact, that he exists. Independently of you. Dr. Hankolin was wrong."

Audrey absorbed this, still seeming puzzled. But nodded.

Buffy smiled. And left.

"So… who," Audrey asked, in a very small voice, once Buffy had gone, "keeps talking at me inside my mind?"

* * *

The Doctor had pleaded. He'd begged. He'd swallowed his pride and offered to do things he'd never even think of doing, under normal circumstances. If they would please — please — just take Susie into another room, so she wouldn't have to witness his punishment. So she wouldn't have to see what the vampires were about to do to him.

They had rejected his offer.

"You have nothing to give," said Leandra, "that we couldn't just take from you, by threatening her life."

So the Doctor had struggled. He'd fought back. He'd made it difficult for them. Refused. Constantly offering that carrot-on-a-stick — his cooperation, if they'd allow Susie not to witness this. And, if they let Susie go completely, if they freed her from their clutches — the Doctor promised to fully and completely surrender.

(They knew him well enough, by now, that they didn't trust that second option for an instant.)

But in the end, Leandra's words were correct. The moment the Doctor thought that the vampires were done with idle threats, and actually about to kill Susie straight out, he gave in. Stopped fighting.

Did as he was told.

"You refuse us, you struggle, you fight — but in the end, you want this," Leandra said. She gave him a cold, dark smile. "You're ravenous. Desperate. You can't help yourself."

"And you know what comes next," Oliver added.

They'd all gone, now. The vampires had departed, having had their fun, leaving the Doctor alone with Susie. She was huddled in her cage, her hands over her ears, her eyes shut.

"Susie," he called to her.

She didn't answer.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I am so, so sorry." And he didn't know if he was apologizing for what he'd done, for allowing her to stay here and watch, or for his own helplessness at making sure the same didn't happen to her.

"I don't…" Susie squeaked. She tried to open one eye to look at him, then closed it, again, as if the mere sight of him in the aftermath of the punishment was too much to bear.

She was so young — how much had she even understood about what had happened? How much could he even explain to her?

"They… they actually…" Susie sounded like she was hyperventilating. "This can't really be happening. It wasn't like this in the stories!"

Because Barbara and Ian would never have told their young granddaughter about all the times the Doctor _hadn't_ saved the day. The times when he'd left everyone to die, simply because history dictated that they did. The times he'd watched people massacred by Daleks or Robespierre, and was unable to save a single life. The time he'd forced Barbara to watch the Aztecs destroying themselves with human sacrifices, and could not change a single thing.

No, Barbara and Ian wouldn't tell Susie the sordid details of their travels. Not until she was older — and by then, Susie probably wouldn't believe the stories were true, anymore.

"I had no choice," the Doctor explained. "If I hadn't done what they wanted, they would have killed you. They've done it before."

Susie squeezed her eyes shut, even tighter. "Is that… is that what's going to happen to me?" she asked, in a quiet voice. She felt herself shaking. "They're… they're going to kill me, and then…"

"No," the Doctor said. "It won't happen. Not to you. I promise. I'm going to get you out of here."

Susie said nothing for a moment.

"Did you promise Jeanette, too?" she asked. "Did you promise the others?"

The Doctor didn't answer.

In a much softer voice, Susie ventured, "Has anyone ever escaped here alive?"

"I… don't know," the Doctor confessed. "I'm sorry."

Susie didn't say anything to him. She huddled up, in the corner of her cage. Trying to come to terms with everything she'd just witnessed.

"Susie," the Doctor said. "Listen to me. I'm not going to let them touch you. I promise." He put on his best cheeky grin. "Your grandfather would have my eye out, if I did."

"Grandpa," Susie whispered.

"That's right," said the Doctor. "Grandpa and Grandma! With their crazy stories about Daleks and Sensorites and Aztecs and Romans! Your grandparents were sold as Roman slaves, locked up in the Bastille, even hunted down by the Daleks — but they came out all right in the end. If I could pull them out of that, I can pull you out of this."

Susie thought this over. Then bit her lower lip.

"The Doctor always saves his friends," she said. "That's what Grandma told me."

"That's right!"

Susie opened her eyes, and met his with her own. Pulling herself together. Gathering her bravery. Forcing herself to be strong.

"You'd help grandma and grandpa to escape," Susie said, "and then they would help you escape. Then you'd all fix things, and everyone would pile back into the TARDIS, and…" She stared down at the floor of her cage. "But it's not true. None of the stories were true."

"They were true," the Doctor assured her. "I was there. Marco Polo, the Sensorites, the Mary Celeste — did your grandparents ever tell you about that one?"

Susie didn't say anything for a long time.

"I wanted to believe they were true," she confessed, in a very small voice. "I always wanted to see…"

Twelve years old. Old enough to question fairytales — but still, in her heart, want to believe them. Old enough to be skeptical, but young enough to hope.

"Maybe you will," the Doctor said. "Maybe, after we escape — you'll get your chance to see everything you've heard about in your bedtime stories."

Susie looked up at him, her eyes wide, her mouth open, a little. Looking past his physical appearance, now, looking at him the way he was used to people looking at him. Like he could help them, do anything, make anything go in his favor. Always get the upper hand.

"Trust me," he told her. "I'm going to get you out of here. And then I'll show you the stars. Just like you've always wanted!"

"I'd… like that," Susie said. She gave a small smile. "A lot."

* * *

Willow snapped the book shut. "Nothing," she said, as she grabbed up the next one.

"It's got to be in here, somewhere," said Buffy, flipping the page on her own encyclopedia-sized book. "It came up in that alternate whatever from last year. I don't know what 'singularity' is, but I'm sure… it's got to be part of their master plan."

" _If_ they have a master plan," said Xander. He squinted at the page, with his one good eye, then turned the book upside down, in the hopes that he might be more able to understand it that way. No luck. "For evil world-destroying vampires, they haven't really done a very good job in terms of evil world-destroying so far."

"You know the prophecy," said Buffy. "Death is coming. Death for all."

"Maybe we've already stopped that," Dawn proposed, trying to make out the letters of her own book through a magnifying glass. "I mean, it feels like people are going to die, if these TBVs succeed, but I don't think _everyone's_ going to die."

"Or Buffy's right," said Willow, "and the TBVs are just waiting until this 'singularity' thing happens, before they start actually putting their plans into action."

"I know I'm right," said Buffy. "These raids and stuff — this isn't part of their plan. They haven't even started their plan, yet. This is the warm-up."

"Are you sure?" asked Dawn.

"It makes sense," said Buffy. "First they take out the key vampire-knowledgeable members of Torchwood and UNIT. They get rid of us — or they tried to. Get rid of the coven. Then take out everyone else by raiding small towns, and killing off the rest of the Earth-defenders slowly but surely."

They all looked down at their books. Knowing that Buffy was right. That, even with their small victories over the TBVs, their numbers were growing smaller by the day. While the vampires' numbers were growing by leaps and bounds.

"They're not going to wipe out the mass of humanity until they become completely unstoppable," said Buffy. "It stands to reason. Riley said that millions of people are going to die before the end of this, and until someone proves him wrong, I'm going to assume that number is correct."

"And you think this… 'singularity' thing is what's going to make the vampires unstoppable enough to kill millions," said Xander. "Whatever… 'singularity' is."

"A singularity is the densest part of a black hole, that pulls light and matter and everything else towards it," Riley offered, entering the library.

They all looked up at him.

Riley hesitated, giving a small but sheepish smile. "I'm guessing… that wasn't the kind of singularity you had in mind."

"Not unless you can create a black hole by stacking enough vampires on top of each other," Xander said.

Buffy put down her book, and folded her arms on the table, in front of her. "What's up?" she asked Riley.

"I just… thought maybe… I could help," Riley offered. "With… whatever… positive Doctor-related thing you're doing, now."

"Sam's still mad at you, isn't she?" Willow asked him, not looking up from her own book.

Riley winced. "Short answer? Very," he admitted.

Dawn muttered something rude-sounding beneath her breath, picking up the magnifying glass and getting back to her research.

Buffy tossed Riley a book, which he caught, expertly.

"We're looking for anything having to do with 'vampires' and 'singularity'," said Buffy. "And bonus points if you happen to stumble across a treasure map labeled, 'Doctor is here!'"

"Audrey still can't remember anything?" Riley asked.

"Nothing that can give us a fix on his location," Buffy replied. "She seems to remember being in a cave, but last I checked, Cleveland wasn't big on the cave-thing. Nearest cave is, like, a three hour drive from here."

"And I'm guessing if she'd had a three hour drive," said Riley, "she'd probably have been able to remember it."

"Maybe the TBVs are using salt-mines or something," Dawn proposed. "There are a bunch of those around here."

"Checked those," said Buffy. "Unless there's one we don't know about, no luck. He's not there."

"Yeah, but Giles said something about a… perception… thingy," Xander offered. "Maybe you just walked right by the Doctor and never saw him."

"He's not in the salt mines," said Jack, entering the room. "I did a bio-scan, and it came up with nothing. Perception filter couldn't touch that." He glanced at the others, all huddled around. And gave them a charming smile. "Having a party and didn't invite me?"

"We're looking for anything having to do with 'vampires' and 'singularity,'" Buffy explained, yanking out a seat beside her. "Pick up a book and join in the research-fun."

Jack froze when Buffy mentioned the word, 'singularity'. All hints of humor fell from his face. "They're forming a _singularity_?" he asked. "Vampires?! _Vampires_ are forming a _psychic singularity_?!"

Everyone looked up, curiously, at Jack.

"You know what it is?" Buffy replied.

"It's… it's like… a hive mind," Jack volunteered. Then, realizing that no one seemed any the wiser, he amended, "All the stuff that you fight — the vampires, and the demons, the trans-dimensional monsters — basically all function by using a low-level telepathic field. Like… a network of evil."

"I've heard of that," said Willow.

"But when I became psychic, I couldn't read Angel's thoughts," Buffy pointed out. "That's kind of a sucky telepathic whatever thing that they have, going on, if they can't even read thoughts."

"Their thoughts are on a different frequency than most telepaths," Jack explained. "I don't think even the Doctor would be able to read a vampire's mind. And that's saying something."

"So what's a singularity?" asked Dawn.

"A singularity is when the psychic network gets so large and so powerful, it passes a critical point," Jack told them. "Everyone's mind gets stuck together into a gigantic hive-mind. Everyone's power is pooled together, so it can grow exponentially. Everyone… sort of… becomes each other."

A sea of blank faces greeted Jack.

"They become like body parts of a larger body," said Jack. "Kill one, and the others will keep coming, as if you'd done nothing at all."

"Yeah, but kill the right body part, and the rest will fall," Riley put in.

"Not with TBVs," Jack said.

Dawn's face went white. "Body parts… just grow back, when you cut them off, on the TBVs," she pointed out. "If this 'singularity' creates a bigger body…"

"…and their power grows exponentially…" Willow added.

"You're getting the idea," said Jack. "No more threat from pure-iron swords. No more threat from the TARDIS. No more threat from… anything. Anywhere. For any vampire in the whole world that's tasted just a drop of the Doctor's blood."

Everyone in the library went very still.

Jack dropped into the chair. "After the singularity," he said, "I'm not sure even the Doctor regenerating would be able to wipe them out. Not unless you could get every vampire into a small, concentrated location, to allow a rebounding, reverberating reflection effect."

"And they're all over the world," said Buffy. "So that's not going to happen."

"That kind of high-energy ricochet would probably collapse whatever area you used it on," Jack confirmed. "And if the area we're talking about is the entire Earth — well, I'd rather not destroy the world while we're trying to save it."

"So how long do we have, before this singularity thing starts up?" Dawn asked.

Everyone fell silent.

Buffy, realizing all eyes were on her, shook her head. "I've got absolutely no idea," she said. "I didn't even know what it was until Jack told us."

They all looked over at Jack.

"Not a clue," Jack said.

Xander shoved aside his book. "So, basically, we have to wipe out the vampires," he summarized, "before this… one critical instant. Because after that point, they're going to wipe us out. Hence, the whole, 'death for all' thing."

"History could go either way," Buffy confirmed. "Either they all die, or we all die. And we're on a deadline."

"Except that we've got no idea when this deadline is," said Willow. "We don't know if it's far away, or close, or anything. We just know that any second could be the critical one."

"So it's basically just like any other apocalypse," said Xander. He slumped over the table. "You know, you'd think that, after going through enough of these, you'd get used to them. But every apocalypse still feels like the end of the world to me."

"Same here," said Dawn.

* * *

"What do you want from me?" the Doctor demanded.

Leandra gave him a cruel smile. "You have the day off, Time Lord," she purred. "We're not touching you."

The Doctor didn't like the sound of that.

Leandra snuggled into Razor's side. "He's so good at breaking people," she explained, patting Razor on the shoulder. "He could take the most saintly person in the world, and reduce him to a thieving, murdering wreck in no time at all."

Yes. The Doctor had seen what they'd done, before.

"We thought," Razor continued, undoing the lock to the cage and pulling out a terrified and struggling Susie, "we'd give you a demonstration. Show you how we do it." He shoved her at a group of his minions, barking out, "Tie her up!"

The Doctor instinctively tried to rush forwards to get her free, but once again, couldn't. Think! Think! There had to be a way out of this. There had to be a way to escape, get to Susie, rescue her from what was about to happen.

But the Doctor already knew what Razor had programmed into the psychic barrier controls. There was no overriding them, anymore.

"You win, Razor!" the Doctor called out. "Whatever you're trying to get me to do, this time, I'll do it. Just stop this!"

"I don't want anything from you," Razor replied. "As Leandra said, this is your day off. The only one I'm interested in is her."

He glanced back to the other vampires, who were tying up Susie as tight as they could, jeering and leering at her, their golden eyes piercing through the darkness.

"And where's the fun in torturing a helpless girl?" the Doctor demanded. "What does it prove? What do you stand to gain by it? My species brought yours to the brink of destruction. If it hadn't been for the Time Lords, you would have been living it up with the Great Vampires, conquering the universe. I am a Time Lord, your ancestral enemy! Your greatest fear!"

Razor did not rise to the bait, just glanced back at the Doctor, impassively. "And she is _your_ greatest weakness," he said. "A young, pretty, brave human girl who believes in you. Who's been raised hearing stories about just how wonderful you are. Who wants to live her life and even die protecting your ideals." Razor's eyes grew cold, hard, biting, as he looked down on the Doctor. "But by the time this is over, she will despise you. And serve only us."

The vampires carried Susie over to the center of the room — right in the Doctor's line of vision — and hung her upside down. Leandra shoved a gag inside her mouth, to try to silence her angry shouts and demands.

"Razor," the Doctor warned. "You do not want to make me angry."

Razor looked the Doctor over. "Or what?" he asked. "What will you do? What could you do?" Then turned back to his human captive, a sadistic smile on his face. He reached for his bucket of razor blades. "What will you say to her family, when they discover what you allowed to happen to her?"

The Doctor tried to look away, but faster than he could register, he discovered Leandra crouched beside him, pointing his head back towards Susie.

"Watch," Leandra commanded.

A scream from Susie, as Razor dug the blade deep into her skin. As the blood pooled below her, and the vampires nearby circled, licking their lips, hungry and waiting for their chance to dig in.

Razor pulled the gag out of Susie's mouth. His lips twitched into a grin.

"Isn't that sweet?" he asked the Doctor. "She's screaming your name."

* * *

Susie wasn't moving.

He'd promised he'd get her out of this. The Doctor had promised her. Just like he'd promised so many others. Just like he'd done so many times before, when he'd taken beautiful, wonderful, kind people and brought them into something that would destroy them.

He didn't know how he'd tell Barbara or Ian. How he'd be able to bring them their granddaughter — named after his own granddaughter — and confess that he'd been unable to save her.

"Or perhaps that you had a hand in her torture yourself?" came a voice to the Doctor's right. "Hmm?"

He glanced over, and just there, at the edge of the psychic bubble, he came face-to-face with a vision of his first incarnation. Its glare cold and biting, its eyes proud and disapproving.

"Who are you?" the Doctor demanded.

The elderly man gestured at the psychic bubble with his cane. "You linked yourself with this psychic bubble," he said. "When you explained to your Slayer how to destroy the vampires. The very same moment I began turning up. You projected your psychic essence — the dark part of your psyche, the side that murders and kills — into the real world. And now it's wandering about, free. You know who I am. I'm you, dear boy. Your dark side. Now, what do you have to say for yourself, hm?"

"You're not me," the Doctor assured the specter.

"You sound very certain of that," said the old man. "Too certain for it to be true." He tucked his cane beneath his arm, and straightened his coat. "Who else would be enough of a technical and scientific genius to give those vampires all the information they needed? Who else would know enough to expose every one of your weaknesses? Who else would want you locked away and tortured until you couldn't stand it any longer?"

"You want me to wipe someone out before they ever existed," the Doctor said. "Even in my darkest moments, I'd never do that."

"You did it to an entire planet," the old man reminded him. "Your own planet. Your own people. Your own family."

The Doctor didn't answer.

"You've trapped yourself, Doctor," said the old man. "How much longer before you stop being the good guy, hm? How much longer before you give in to your dark side? How much longer before this pain and suffering drives out anything good that's left in you, and reveals what you really are, inside?"

"You're not me," the Doctor said, more firmly. "You might torture me, but that's all a means to an end, for you. You're impassive about it." He gave a small smile. "Truth is — you don't hate me nearly enough to actually be me."

The old man scrutinized him carefully. Then, with a smile of his own, he answered, "You're right, of course, my boy. I'm not you. I'm what you're about to become."

"An odd thing to hear from a previous incarnation," the Doctor replied.

"Razor and the others have pushed you off the precipice," said the old man. "You're hanging on for dear life. Trying to retain control over yourself. But you're about to fall."

"Rubbish."

"The Slayer holds the Scythe — you've lost faith in her," said the old man. "Your other friends, if they attempted to rescue you, would simply die, or — in the case of Jack Harkness — ask you a lot of awkward questions you don't really want to answer. No help from them. The only hostages that escape from here are those too selfish to care about helping you. Humanity is unable to comprehend this threat, let alone eliminate it. As the point of singularity draws closer and closer, you know there's only one person who can stop it."

"Me."

"The last one you believe in," the old man concurred. "The Doctor. The one who pulls a rabbit out of a hat at the last moment. The one who can save the world on his lunch break, save the galaxy just before dinner, and — just to show how very clever he is — saves the universe for afters. You believe in yourself. But you hate yourself."

A moan from the cage, and the Doctor glanced over at Susie. She was getting up, onto her hands and knees, shakily.

"You can save them," said the old man. "You can save everyone. I've already given you that option."

The Doctor gritted his teeth, diverting his attention away from his former self. Susie looked up at him, and he braced himself for anger or rage or bitterness. But instead, there was a look of wonder, as if she had no idea how the Doctor could have done something absolutely brilliant.

And she opened the door to her cage, with no effort at all.

"The question is: can you stop them from destroying themselves?" the old man asked.

As the Doctor realized — in horror — what was about to happen. That Razor must have left that door open, on purpose — and the Doctor thought he knew what that purpose was. What Razor was up to.

He shouted at Susie to keep back.

But she ignored him. Stumbling forwards, her teeth gritted in determination. Susie, who'd been told stories about him by her grandparents. Who thought he'd just saved her. She was one of the ones who wasn't about to escape without him.

_The Doctor always saves his friends. And then his friends save him._

The psychic bubbles flickered out of existence, each in turn, only seconds before she walked through them. As if they'd been programmed to do so.

The Doctor tried to call out to her, again, warn her that this was all a trap, but he found himself unable to speak. Unable to utter a sound. Something horribly evil was hovering in the air around him — trying to smother him — and despite everything he'd just said, the Doctor was deeply, deeply afraid that the evil force had originated from his own mind.

Susie raced forwards, grabbing a bunch of keys dangling conveniently close to her, and approaching the Doctor, knelt down and unlocked his restraints. Undid the blood-draining tubes. Helped the Doctor to his feet.

The outer psychic bubble popped back into existence, just ahead of them. Susie didn't notice. Just turned, and launched herself forwards, towards the exit. The Doctor saw the faint shimmer, knew what it meant. Grabbed Susie by the arm and tugged her back, just before she collided with the bubble.

"So, the child failed her test," said Razor, stepping into view with the rest of his vampire gang behind him.

Susie backed up, her hand squeezing the Doctor's a little tighter, too frightened to say a word.

"If you'd left him behind," Razor continued, "you could have been free, by now. But you still tried to help the one who let us hurt you."

Razor stepped through the psychic barrier, the others following after him.

(They'd been trying to convince the Doctor to lose faith in her. Trying to convince him humans weren't worth saving. And the Doctor could see, now — it burned at Razor, seeing Susie, and knowing he'd been wrong.)

"The Doctor always saves his friends," Susie told Razor. "And his friends always save him. That's how the stories go."

Razor gave a cruel laugh. "Basing your life on a fairytale," he mused. His face morphed into his vampiric visage. "But in the real world, good doesn't always triumph."

Susie stepped closer to the Doctor. Trusting him to keep her safe.

"You think he'll save you? He didn't save anyone else. He _can't_." Razor grinned. "And he knows it."

"Keep away from her," the Doctor warned Razor.

Razor surveyed the two of them, noticed where they had been edging, slowly but surely. Noticed what their objective was. But the tertiary psychic bubble — the one they'd just installed, after Jeanette — was in place, and the two captives couldn't escape without deactivating it.

Razor nodded to the others, behind him. "Kill her."

The Doctor grabbed Susie, and lunged towards the control console for the psychic barriers. The one usually out of his reach, the one which was now accessible, right in front of him. The one that could open up a hole in the tertiary barrier, allowing both of them to escape.

"You know what will happen if you tamper with the machine," Razor called out to him. "Choose quickly! Save her, or save millions."

The Doctor reached for the button to release the outer psychic barrier. But stopped. Hesitated.

The hesitation cost him his advantage.

Susie screamed, as the vampires grabbed her away from him, her voice echoing in his ears as they sank their teeth down into her throat, her shoulder, her arms and legs. As they tore at her, draining her, dragging nails across flesh and cracking bone in order to get a better purchase on her small body.

The Doctor struck out at them, tried to drag her away, but was shoved backwards and slammed against the side of the psychic barrier. It seared through his mind and body, causing him to collapse to the ground, panting to try to catch his breath, mind reeling and body barely responding to his brain's commands anymore.

He gritted his teeth, and forced his legs to move, as he charged back towards the dying girl.

Razor held up a hand, and the vampires around him stopped feeding — without even having to look at him, as if he'd switched off some impulse inside their minds — and backed away. Allowing the Doctor to get to Susie.

The child they'd tortured.

The child they'd killed.

The child who'd believed in him. Come back for him.

The grandchild of some of his dearest friends.

He gathered her up, holding her in his arms, as she struggled to breathe. As she struggled to see through the ever-encroaching blackness. Her eyes fell on the Doctor.

"But you promised," she said, as she slipped away into death.

The Doctor knelt there, on the ground, holding Susie's body as if he could wish life back into it. Staring into her lifeless eyes, at her colorless cheeks, at that spark of youth and life and wonder that had been snuffed out of her as if this were a game. He stared at her, not moving, not speaking, scarcely daring to breathe.

"You see, Time Lord," said Razor. "We vampires have the power over life and death. We can destroy even…."

Razor stopped mid-sentence, as the Doctor's head shot up. And his eyes met Razor's.

Cold, dark eyes, bitter angry eyes, a tempest storming behind every crevice of his face. Venom and destruction flooding through the arc of his body, his hands shaking with passion and bitter rage as they held the dead girl.

The vampires had seen the Doctor angry before. They'd seen him furious. But this kind of powerful, raging, destructive anger, this violent darkness that seemed to flow through him, with his every breath — this was something new. This was an anger they could _feel_ radiating from him.

An anger unspeakably powerful. And unimaginably dangerous.

A storm they'd set free.

And in a quiet, strong voice, devoid of any ounce of compassion, sympathy, or mercy, the Doctor gave them a promise. One he would not fail to keep.

"You're all dead," the Doctor told them. "Every single last one of you."

A chill ran through the room, along every word.

Leandra, sneaking up behind him, struck him across the back of the head. He sunk, unconscious, to the ground, a smile on his lips — as if her action had been the very thing he'd wanted. As if this were all part of his new master plan.

Leandra looked up at Razor. He looked back at her. Both having that same look of terror on their faces. Everyone in the room having that look of terror on their faces.

Because they all knew.

They'd succeeded. Finally done what they'd set out to do. They'd finally — _finally_ — broken the Doctor.

And now each and every one of them was going to die.


	33. December, 2004

"Has he woken up, yet?" Razor demanded.

"No, sir," squeaked his junior lackey.

Razor threw the lackey across the room, with a roar of rage. "Then get him up!"

"He's not going to wake up," Oliver put in. "He wants to be unconscious. Whatever he's up to, he's doing it with his mind. Using our psychic bubbles to his own advantage."

Razor turned on Leandra. "You," he snapped, pointing at her. "This is your fault. You were the one that wanted him broken."

"Me?" Leandra cried. "I warned you that he was going to kill us all! I've warned you from the start!" She pointed over at Oliver. "Besides, Oliver was the one who picked out that little girl!"

"Razor was the one who decided to torture her," Oliver pointed out. "And Sandy was the one who suggested this whole strategy in the first place."

"Sandy's already been dealt with," Razor growled.

Leandra turned her glare onto Razor. "You were the one who made the deal for the Time Lord with those Vamp-Awayed Losers," she said. "You were the one who wanted him here."

"You hungered after him just as much as I did," Razor snapped back. "Or don't you remember that?"

"Ed was the one who built the blood-sucking machine," Oliver accused. "If not for that, we would have just killed the Time Lord flat out, and none of this would have happened."

"And killed yourselves in the process!" Ed retorted. "Or had you forgotten about regeneration?" He crossed his arms. "And Joe was the one who came up with the ruling the world idea."

"You leave Joe out of this," said Leandra. "He's dead. He can't defend himself."

"Joe died first, because he massacred those humans that nursed the Time Lord, when he escaped," Oliver pointed out. "Joe tortured and killed all those people in LA, trying to find some mystery device the Time Lord had hidden. The Time Lord snapped, and killed Joe. But we've done worse than that, since. Whatever the Time Lord's got in mind for us, it'll be way worse than what he did to Joe."

Leandra glared back at the busted-in door, able to see the edge of the outermost psychic bubble that comprised their prisoner's cell.

"I say we bury him alive," she proposed. "By the time he suffocates, we'll be long gone. Then he can regenerate as many times as he damn well pleases, before he dies completely."

"I second that," said Oliver. "Finish him off before he finishes us off."

Razor slammed his fist down on the table, the wood splintering under the force. "Silence!" he roared.

Everyone glared at him, but said nothing.

"How long do you think we'll last, without him?" Razor demanded of his followers. "How long before you come crawling back here, dying for another taste of blood? Face up to it. The Time Lord was right — his blood is a drug, and we're all hooked. None of us would be able to kill him."

"We could leave him where he is," Ed proposed. "Drain him even more. Keep him unconscious."

"For the last time, he _wants_ to be unconscious," Oliver groaned. "Whatever he's doing, he's doing it psychically. Using the bubbles."

"Then we should shut off the psychic bubbles," Leandra proposed.

"We can't, unless you want to kill him and cause a regeneration," said Ed. "And if he's tampering with the psychic bubbles, I can't guarantee that they'll contain his regenerative energy the way they're supposed to."

"Then wake him up!" Leandra said.

"We've killed about a hundred people, to get him to wake up, and he's not budging," said Oliver. "He's done playing our games. We broke him, and now he's going to kill us."

"Then we wait!" Razor cut in. "The point of singularity is close. That's the end for him — and he knows it. All we have to do is make sure he doesn't kill us before the critical instant."

"And how are we going to do that?" Leandra demanded. "Break him? Oh, wait, I forgot! We did that. That's why we're in this mess in the first place!"

"We don't need to break him!" Razor snapped. He gave a small smile. "All we need to do is wake him up. Undo whatever he's done psychically. Then distract him until the critical instant has passed."

"He's not going to wake up," Oliver said for the hundred billionth time. "We could kill everyone in the world, and he'd sleep right through it. He wants us dead. He needs to be unconscious to do that. Trust me. He's not getting up for anything or anyone."

"Except one person," said Joe, who had appeared beside them. He gave them a large, feral grin. "Rose Marion Tyler."

* * *

Buffy was in conference with the leaders of UNIT and the secret section of the US Army that dealt with the supernatural, when Jack burst through the door.

"The TBVs," he said. "They know about Rose."

* * *

"Okay," said Angel, after his fiftieth attempt to get to Cleveland and warn Buffy had failed. "It's not the First."

He pulled off his shoes, and squeezed the water out of them.

"You look like you drove into a lake," Joanna noted.

"I did," Angel replied. "The car went out of control. Wound up in a lake. I'm wet, and the car's been totaled."

"Not the First, then," Spike agreed. "Not its style."

Joanna looked between the two of them. "Non-corporeal, all-powerful evil entity? Why not?"

"Well, while the First is certainly big on torture, the destruction of the world, shattering all hope by preying on your conscience, and creating vast, unkillable vampire armies," said Spike, "the First's always bloody showy about it. King of the big gloat."

"Whoever's directing this is being sneaky," Angel said. "Directing events, actions, and people from behind the scenes. If the First is involved, it's not the one calling the shots."

Joanna crossed her arms. "Okay, then," she said. "So. 'Bringer of Death', the army of unkillable vampires, the destruction of humanity, and the Amulet — all of which points directly to the First as our primary suspect — are all red herrings. Whoever's calling the shots, they're powerful enough to screw with everything and everyone. And they don't want us to tell Buffy it's the First that's behind it."

"Whoever this is," said Angel, "they probably want Buffy to work out that it's the First, for herself. So she'll believe it."

"Except it's not the First," Spike said. "We're all agreed on that."

"What I want to know," Joanna cut in, "is what force, out there, is bad enough that it's hiding behind the First Evil?"

* * *

Kennedy thrust the newspaper down in front of Willow. "I don't know very much about history," she said. "But I'm pretty sure that the Native Americans of Cleveland didn't know ancient Babylonian."

Willow picked the paper up, and studied the headline Kennedy was referring to. "'Babylonian artifact discovered in Steven's Bakery basement," she read. Looking at the picture, which showed the stone foundation of the basement, including one stone containing cuneiform writing. Willow frowned, skimming the article. "'…stones taken from strictly local sources'?!"

"Giles is down at the museum where they brought the stone, taking a look at it, now," said Kennedy. "He was trying to read the text from the picture, but he said it was weird. Like… it was written in cuneiform, but the words weren't Babylonian."

"What were they?" asked Willow. "Code?"

Kennedy shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Dawn rushed past them, her head down in a stack of papers, muttering under her breath. She stopped, as she noticed Willow and Kennedy.

"Have you seen…?" Dawn started.

"Buffy's already gone," Willow and Kennedy said, in unison.

Dawn swore, then darted off down the corridor.

"Well," sighed Kennedy, "that's whatever Dawn's trying to do out the window."

"At least we're being more productive than we usually are when Buffy's away," Willow said. "We're looking at stones."

Xander half ran through the corridor, stopping beside Willow and Kennedy. "Please tell me…" he started.

"Buffy's already gone," Willow and Kennedy said, in unison.

Xander tossed the folder he was carrying over his shoulder. "Well, that's the end of that," he said. He sat down beside Willow and Kennedy. "Reading something fun?"

"Cuneiform writing in a local basement," said Willow. She turned the paper so Xander could see. "Giles is checking it out."

Xander squinted at the headline. "That's sounding dangerously close to this organization doing real work while Buffy's away," he remarked.

"She's left already?" Faith asked, appearing in front of them. She stomped off, muttering, "Well, that's just great."

"I guess leaving to go defend your pretend-sister in England while the rest of the world is being destroyed makes you pretty unpopular," said Xander.

"It's not my fault that no one does anything around here unless Buffy tells them to," said Kennedy.

"No, it's all our faults," sighed Willow. "We all kicked Buffy out, when she was about to find the Scythe. We all fell into that trap Caleb and the First set for us, because we didn't believe her. And now, we've got Buffy stuck doing a job she doesn't want to do, because if she isn't here, the whole organization falls apart."

"All that aside…" Kennedy started.

They were all interrupted by the sound of revving, which reverberated around the room. They looked up, but they were still in a corridor in the center of the Slayer Institution, far away from any roads, cars, or windows. They looked at one another.

"We should probably look into that," said Willow. "Phantom car sounds. Not a good thing."

"With Buffy in England?" asked Kennedy. She laughed. "Yeah, right! We're not looking into anything!"

Willow sighed, but nodded.

"I just hope Buffy's fake family appreciates what she's doing for them," said Xander. "Because if they don't, we sure could use her help over here."

"No way," Buffy told Jack. "She hasn't met you, yet. If you stick around, she might see you, and I've gone through the whole meeting-before-you're-supposed-to, end-of-the-universe scare thing before. You're staying far away from the Powell Estates."

"And if this is a trap," Jack countered, "then you'll lead the TBVs right to Rose. And there's no way you'll be able to defend her, when you're unarmed and civilianized."

Buffy grabbed one of the decorative needles out of her hair, then threw it at the side of the building. It thudded into a crack in the cement, right smack in the middle of the "D" in the grafittied, "BAD WOLF".

"Unarmed?" Buffy inquired. She yanked the needle out of the wall, and showed it to Jack. "Pure iron." She tucked it into her hair. "I've also got three daggers, a hatchet, five pure-iron piercing things, and a sword."

Jack stepped back, looking her up and down. Spending a little too much time checking out her ass. She cleared her throat, and he moved on, looking for hints of weapons. And seeing none. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"First thing I learned, with the Doctor," said Buffy. "How to hide weapons."

Jack grinned a wicked grin. "If you're good, I'll show you where I hide my Compact Laser Deluxe pistol."

Buffy gave him a small sigh. "When the world's not ending, Jack." She reached into her pocket, and handed him a crumpled piece of paper. "While I'm getting the Tylers to safety, you check in on this guy. He's kind of weird, and I don't want him getting involved in something too crazy for him to understand."

Jack flattened the paper along the outside of the building. "Clive Finch," he read. He glanced back at Buffy. "Isn't he that UFO conspiracy nutcase who runs the 'Have you seen the Doctor' webpage?"

"Just check in on him and his family, and make sure they're okay," said Buffy, ignoring him.

"You've been working with a UFO nut to spy on the Doctor through history?" Jack asked.

Buffy looked away. "I just…" She winced. "There was this thing that happened, in 2003, involving other-worlds and stuff, and I got curious about Mr. Big-Ear-Leather-Jacket."

"You haven't told this Finch guy that the Doctor's an alien, have you?" asked Jack. "Or that you know him?"

"Of course not!" said Buffy, hands on her hips. She hesitated. "I think, right now, Clive's kind of more convinced that the Doctor's some immortal… god-type thing."

"God-type thing, huh?" Jack's smile grew, his eyes twinkling, and Buffy guessed that Jack was thinking some very undivine things about one particular individual that, in his mind, did approach divinity.

Buffy pushed him down the street. "Just go check on my friends, already!" she said.

Jack stumbled, caught his footing, then glanced back at Buffy and winked, before heading off.

"And if you die a bunch getting there, I'm going to get really mad at you!" Buffy shouted after him.

* * *

"I… I don't… where's Buffy?" Audrey asked, plastering herself against the wall.

"Buffy's not here, right now," Dawn said, trying to soothe her. "But it's okay. I'm her sister, and they're her friends. If you're not comfortable with us, that's cool. We'll leave."

Audrey's eyes lingered on Willow. Her hands were shaking.

"It's just a memory spell," Willow explained, once again. "We think it could help us find the Doctor."

"And you want us to find the Doctor, right?" asked Dawn. "Because then we can rescue him."

Audrey's breathing grew faster. "I… I don't… where's Buffy?"

Xander added another little tick to his mental tally, as the conversation repeated itself, over again. For the thirty seventh time.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Sam muttered to Xander. "Whatever she's willing to tell Buffy, there's no way she'll be willing to tell us."

"Welcome to life in Cleveland without Buffy," said Xander. "Our motto: 'You want frustration? Come and get it!'"

"Audrey, if you don't want us to do the spell, we don't have to," Willow cut in, breaking the cycle. "But I promise, it's not going to hurt. And if it does, I'll stop, right away."

Audrey hesitated. Then, with another glance around, just in case Buffy had shown up, she nodded at Willow.

Willow sat down amongst her arranged items, and crossed her legs. She gestured for Audrey to sit in front of her, and Audrey, with some hesitation, did so.

"I'm just going to root your memory into the essence of the Earth," Willow said. She handed Audrey some dried flowers, with a comforting smile. "It'll ground your thoughts a little, and make your mental landscape easier to sift through. Then you can try to remember where you were when you last saw him. Okay?"

Audrey nodded.

Willow closed her eyes, and began chanting, spreading the leaves and twigs before her. Her breath was filled with power, a glowing shimmer rose up from her hands, and — as she touched the flowers in Audrey's hands — spread to Audrey.

Then a crash.

And a sudden swirl of wind, roaring through the air, as a great big split opened in the air between Willow and Audrey, a tunnel of blue light, sucking at everything nearby — save for the two encased in the spell.

"Will!" Xander shouted. "Call off the spell!"

"I'm trying!" Willow shouted back. "But I'm not the one causing this!"

A small tendril of light stretched through the portal — as Dawn felt herself lose her grip on the nearby railing, and fly forwards, into the portal, unable to find something to grab onto. Sam lunged for her, just barely managing to jerk her away before she got sucked through. But Dawn could still feel herself being dragged in, her arm touching the blue edge of the portal, brushing against the light… and colliding with another hand, coming through the other side…

A spark blazed across their vision.

The next thing they all knew, they were on the floor. The spell was over. The portal gone. And Audrey was trembling in a corner, looking at them all suspiciously.

"Okay, what just happened?" Xander asked.

Willow shook her head. "I… don't know," she confessed. "It was like… her mind was… linked. To someone else. Someone… in serious pain."

"And the portal?" asked Dawn.

"I've got no idea," said Willow. "Except… I know I wasn't the one opening the portal. It was already there, just... inside Audrey's mind." She glanced over at Audrey. "I guess it's back in her mind, now."

The sound of a motor zoomed past them, and they looked around. Once again, nothing.

"I really, really wish Buffy was here," said Willow, with a sigh. "She'd know what to do."

* * *

Buffy thanked her lucky stars, the moment she heard Rose's laughter echoing through the apartment door. She'd half expected Rose to be out somewhere really far away, in some massive amount of trouble, while gangs of vampires were ripping the Powell Estates to pieces, leaving Buffy to choose between rescuing Rose and rescuing Jackie.

But, lucky for her, they were all together.

Buffy grabbed the doorknob, about to force the door open, but stopped herself. Right. No Slayer stuff. This was her safe-place, her Slayer-less place, the one location where she could forget her destiny and her legacy and her duty, and be normal.

She knocked, instead.

The door was flung open by Jackie Tyler, who swept Buffy into the room with an excited cry of, "I didn't know you were in town! You should have told me — do you want some tea? Course you do. Looks like you've been wading through all the mud in London, getting here."

And so on, and so on, the warm chattering of friends and words and the rush of smiles making Buffy forget, for just a little while, everything that was happening in the outside world.

Rose, talking animatedly with a black boy about her own age who was sitting across the table, glanced up at Buffy. And gave her a large grin — one that showed just the merest hint of hesitation, as Rose tried, like always, to work Buffy out.

"And meanwhile, on the telly, the alien jumped out of his space ship, right? Laser gun in hand, and then he blasted all the other…" the boy trailed off, as he realized Rose's attention had wandered. He glanced over at Buffy. "Who're you?"

"'S okay, Mickey," said Rose. "She's the one I told you about. Who beat up Jimmy."

The boy slouched in his seat. "Oh, yeah, right," he muttered.

Rose took the boy's hand in her own — giving him some comfort — then turned back to Buffy. "Did you fix whatever had gone wrong, back in America?"

"I—" Buffy started, when she heard an inhuman howl rip through the air, outside. The shriek of cold, merciless laughter echoing through the stairwell, outside the apartment. The little tingly sense Buffy felt in her mind, whenever vampires were around.

Rose glanced towards the stairwell, a frown emerging on her face. She got up from the table. "That's odd."

"What's odd?" asked the boy.

"Didn't you hear that?" Rose asked him. "'S like there's something outside…"

Buffy intersected Rose before she could reach the door. The laughter was now echoing down from above them, in the stairwell, and Buffy hoped that meant the vampires had overlooked them.

"I'm sorry about this," said Buffy. "Really, really sorry. But you guys are in mega trouble, staying here. I've got to get you to safety."

"What d'you mean?" asked Rose. She tried to extricate herself from Buffy's grip, to look out the door. "What's out there?"

"Just… people," said Buffy. "Bad people. And they're looking for you."

Jackie emerged from the kitchen, a tea pot in her hand. She paused, as she heard the rush of footsteps and evil laughter echoing down from the apartment stairwell.

"Jimmy's gang," Jackie muttered. She shoved the tea pot down onto the table. And turned to Rose. "I told you they'd be after you, if you went out with that boy," she scolded, "I warned you! But you just had to run off with someone dangerous like Jimmy, didn't you? Now, look! You've landed us all in a mess of trouble!"

"You're the police?" Rose asked Buffy. She thought a moment, then shook her head. "No, not police. You're… MI-6, aren't you?"

"Huh?" asked Buffy. Before realizing that, whatever MI-6 was, she was better off letting Rose believe she was part of it than telling the Tylers the truth. "Oh. Yeah. MI-6. Totally."

The boy stumbled to his feet, his eyes wide, his hands shaking. He swore, grabbing Rose as if pleading with her to protect him. "I knew Jimmy was bad, Rose. But I never knew he was wrapped up in something like that."

Buffy glanced at the clearly terrified boy standing before her. Just great. If he was this scared of a gang of thugs, he'd be totally useless against actual vampires. "Who're you?" she asked.

"My boyfriend," said Rose. "Mickey."

Buffy stared at the boy. "Him?" she cried. She looked back at Rose. "After you chose Mr. Gang-Guy-Abusive-Boyfriend, you moved onto Mr. Geeky-Shrimp-Can't-Defend-Himself? Seriously?" She shook her head. "You've got almost as bad a taste in boyfriends as Dawn!"

"Who're you saying can't defend himself?" demanded Rose's Boyfriend, standing up and looking like he was gearing up for a fight. "Bet I could take you on in—"

Rose pulled the boy back. "Bad idea!"

The laughter suddenly became louder, and the scraping sound of sharp nails against the wooden front door of their apartment poured through the air, making them all wince.

"Fire escape," Buffy said, grabbing Rose by her arm, and yanking her along. "You, too, Jackie."

"What… what's that?" asked the boy, his voice shaking. "What's…?"

"Andrew," Buffy snapped at him, "stop whining and run!"

She tugged Rose out of the apartment and onto the landing of the fire escape, Jackie following close behind. The whiny boy was muttering something annoyed sounding about his name under his breath. Buffy didn't pay attention to him. She was focused on feeling out with her Slayer senses, trying to determine where the biggest danger was.

A crash of shattering glass from the windows of a nearby apartment, and Rose turned, terror but determination in her eyes, as she slipped her arm out from Buffy's grasp, and rushed back into her own apartment.

"Mrs. Nindekin!" she said.

Damn it! Buffy turned to Jackie and the boyfriend, shouted, "Don't move," and then rushed after Rose. Catching her before she reached the front door of the apartment.

"Mrs. Nindekin," Rose said. "She might be hurt."

Yeah, forget 'hurt'. Mrs. Nindekin was probably already dead — in Buffy's experience. Nothing they could do for her, now.

"They're not after her," Buffy said. "They're after _you_. And if they find you, lots of very bad stuff's going to happen. Not just to you. Not just to me. But to…" she stopped herself just before saying, 'the Doctor'. She coughed, and substituted, "…some other people."

Rose glanced over at the door, her eyes worried and fearful, but determined. Then back at Buffy.

"I've got a team together," Buffy told Rose. "We can take care of this. Promise. But you have to be out of the way and safe, before we can."

Rose hesitated. Then, with one last lingering glance at the door, she turned, and let Buffy guide her out of the apartment.

As they ran, Buffy tried to glance through the smashed-up window, see who it was that had invaded the apartment. If any of the vampires she was seeing seemed familiar at all.

But she saw only a glimpse of a black robe. And nothing else.

* * *

As Buffy, the Tylers, and Mickey raced across the Powell Estates, a second black-robed creature with sewn up patches for eyes waited, around a corner, ready to strike out. Join its companion — out wrecking the Powell Estates apartments — and destroy the four humans running for their lives.

"No, no," came a voice, beside him, as the image of Buffy Summers appeared out of thin air. She wore a malicious smile, looking on at the running crowd. "Not yet."

The black-cloaked creature hissed in annoyance.

"Oh, they'll die," the First assured him. "All of them, one by one." The First's eyes gleamed, as it sought them out. "First the Slayer — wiped from time. Then him. Then her. And then, finally — _finally_ — the valiant child. Who will die in battle. So very, very soon."

The sound of a cleared throat echoed through the air, nearby.

The First turned, the smile dripping off its face and fading into annoyance, as it noticed the person standing nearby. "And look who's finally decided to show up."

"You can't kill her," the entity who wasn't the Ninth Doctor replied. He shoved his hands into his leather-jacketed pockets. "Not before she's gone to Krop Tor."

"I can do anything I want," replied the First. "Unlike you — bound by the laws of time."

"Kill her now," the other entity said, "and I won't exist."

The First gave a proud half smile. "And that would just be such a shame for you, wouldn't it?"

"And for you," the leather jacketed entity reminded the First. "When everything I've done for you gets wiped out."

The First pouted at him. "Spoil sport."

The entity in the leather jacket gave the First a hard, cold stare.

"Oh, relax," said the First. "I wasn't going to kill Rose. I just wanted to torture her a little bit." Its eyes shone, as it noticed the discomfort on the other entity's face. "The same way I've been torturing the Doctor. And you still haven't given a word of protest about that."

The other entity said nothing.

"I'm not scared, you know," the First said. "I know you're just bluffing. Trying to pretend you've done something as stupid as that. You'd never actually go through with it."

Once again, silence.

"And, anyways," the First continued, "if I get control of the Doctor, the TARDIS, and the Key to Time, the entire issue becomes irrelevant. It might even help me, if I use it to my advantage." It pointed at the other entity. "Face it. Compared to me, you're just a powerless pinprick on the universe. The Axis is your powerhouse — outside its confines, you can do nothing."

Still no answer.

"Maybe I'll keep the Doctor alive, somewhere deep inside his mind, after I'm done taking over the universe and getting everything I want," the First mused. "Just so you can hear him screaming out in pain — for all eternity. Unable to do anything to stop it."

The entity raised his eyebrows, then turned, and walked away.

"What? Still no begging?" the First shouted after him. "Not even a tiny little plea for mercy?"

The entity stopped. Glanced back over his shoulder. "No," he said. "Not to you. Not to anyone. Not ever." Looked back in front of him. "Not when I know what it'll mean." Then disappeared into the air.

* * *

"How did they find her so fast?" asked Willow, cradling the phone with her shoulder. "No, wait, don't tell me. They followed you."

"Maybe," came Buffy's voice over the phone. "I dunno. I couldn't get a good look at the ones in the apartment over, but…" a pause, then, in a lower voice, "whoever's coming after us, they don't really seem all that interested in _catching_ us."

"You think this is a distraction?" asked Willow. She frowned, thinking through the events that had been going on, recently. "From what?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," said Buffy. "Nothing weird going on, in the States?"

"Nothing," Willow confirmed. "Like, really nothing. We figured the vamps were all in England, hunting down Rose."

Buffy said nothing, just gave an annoyed sigh.

"Or…" Willow paused, hesitated. Then spoke, with more confidence, "or this isn't about Rose at all. It's about you."

Buffy said nothing for a few seconds. Then, "Huh?"

"Well, we're pretty worthless, here, when you're not around," said Willow. "Maybe they just wanted you in England, so they could wipe us out without getting any resistance."

Buffy swore. "You've got the army guys there, right? And the pure-iron guns?"

"Yeah," Willow said. "But if the vamps are about to pass that singularity point, none of that stuff's going to cut it."

"Will, if they pass that point, we're all dead no matter what," said Buffy. "Even I couldn't stop them, then."

"I still think it'd be better if you came back," Willow replied. "You've gotten the Tylers into the safe-place, now. Can't you just leave them there?"

"Not until the Sandcastle Skyscraper Zingbat thing," said Buffy.

"The Sancrazzil Sycsacramter Zignabat Spell, you mean?" Willow said.

"Yeah. Until you use that to make sure Rose and the others are hidden, I'm staying here," said Buffy. "Protecting her is way more important than everything else, right now."

"More important than finding the Doctor?" Willow asked.

Buffy took in a sharp breath. Hesitated. For a long moment. "This is… bigger than all that," she whispered. "Bigger than even the world. The moment Rose gets involved, we turn a normal apocalypse into some great-big-time-ending catastrophe."

"You were the one who involved Mr. Time-Altering-Protect-The-Doctor-No-Name in this," Willow pointed out. "If this turns into a time catastrophe, that'll be what did it."

"Which is why I'm staying here," Buffy replied, "instead of sticking with you guys in Cleveland. To stop that from happening." She sighed. "How long before you can get that Sandcastle Zingbat thing to work?"

"Not until the astrological signals all line up," said Willow. "I told you. You're still going to have to wait a few more days until we even get our chance. And that's assuming the spell works."

"It'll work," said Buffy. "I know you can do this, Will. And I know—"

But whatever Buffy was going to say next was cut off by Giles, racing into the room, a seriously worried expression on his face. He glanced at Willow — on her cell phone — at Xander, who'd been discussing things with Sam, and then at Dawn, who was leafing through files and papers.

Whatever Rose was a distraction for, Willow figured Giles was about to explain it to them.

"Call you back," Willow told Buffy, and flipped the phone closed.

Everyone looked over at Giles, who opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, when nothing came out.

"Verdict on the stone tablet, G-man?" Xander asked him.

Giles took off his glasses. "Yes," he said, cleaning them on his shirt. "The… ancient Babylonian tablet. Discovered in Cleveland."

"It's some ancient warning about the end of the world," Kennedy guessed. "Or something else having to do with our current situation."

"Not… precisely," said Giles.

They waited for him to go on, but he didn't. Just put his glasses back on his face, and looked over at Dawn, uneasily.

"Did you at least break the code?" asked Willow.

"It wasn't written in code," Giles confessed. "It's… really quite puzzling, actually, but it I believe — and I'm not precisely certain how — but the cuneiform is only a transliteration. Babylonian letters to form… English words."

Everyone stared at him.

"English?" Kennedy asked. "Seriously?"

"Modern English," Giles agreed. "On a tablet that's been buried in the ground for about four thousand years."

"Well, what did the stone tablet say?" Willow asked. "Maybe that'll answer our questions."

Giles looked over at Dawn. "It said, 'Hey there, Dawnie.'"

* * *

"Willow?" Buffy said, into the phone. "Willow!" She swore, as she snapped her cell phone shut. "Damn."

She glanced over, and found everyone else staring at her. Not saying a word.

(Had they been listening? Damn it — what had Buffy said? Hopefully not anything too revealing.)

"Jackie," said Buffy. "There should be kitchen stuff in the next room over. You can make tea." That'd make Jackie feel right at home. Buffy pointed at the boyfriend. "Andrew. You go stand by the door and see if—"

"That's not my name," said the boyfriend.

Buffy blinked. "Oh." She hesitated. Trying to remember what Rose had called him.

"You don't even know what my name is!" the boyfriend accused.

"Of course I do!" said Buffy. "It's…" She paused, thinking furiously. Damn it. She _didn't_ remember. She had way too many other things to think about, right now. "Andrew," she said. "Go stand by the door and make sure no one's trying to force entry."

"It's Mickey!" shouted the boyfriend. "Mickey Smith!"

Buffy wanted to hit her head on something. "Does it matter? Just go stand by the door, already!"

Mickey muttered something under his breath, but — thankfully — trudged off to do what she said. Thank heavens for small mercies. If he'd turned out to be whiny, complainy, cowardly, and argumentative — Buffy figured she'd be pretty much screwed.

"And you," said Buffy, turning on Rose. But stopped, when she noticed Rose's severe expression.

"I'm not moving," said Rose, "until you tell me what's going on."

Buffy faltered. She must have said something, over the phone, that Rose picked up on. Rose had always been the one closest to figuring out Buffy's game right from the start.

"Look, it's complicated, okay?" said Buffy. "But I'm good for beating up… gang members and stuff. With my… MI-12 buddies. So I'll totally be able to—"

"MI-12?" Rose asked.

Buffy froze. "It's… not 12, is it?"

"Six," Rose replied.

Buffy grimaced. "Okay. Yeah. So, not them."

"Then who are you?" Rose asked. "What's happening? What's it got to do with me?"

Buffy opened her mouth to answer, then realized she wasn't sure what to say.

"Are you even from America?" Rose asked.

"Of course I'm from America!" said Buffy. "Fly into California, and my home's the first crater on your left."

"The day we met, you knew my name," Rose continued, "before I even told you. You recognized my mum. You knew us — all about us — before we ever knew you. Have you been following us? Is this something to do with Jimmy — or is there something else?"

Okay, now Buffy was in for it.

"I'm just… Buffy," said Buffy. "You know. Human. Fighting for good. That kind of thing."

"Human?" Rose stared at Buffy. "What do you mean, 'human'? Was that optional?"

Shit.

"What are you?" Rose persisted. "Who are you? What do you do? You brought me into all this. You could at least tell me something about yourself."

"I'm just… I'm…" Buffy squeezed her eyes shut. "Look, I'm just a normal, dumb-blond who wound up stuck doing a job she hates because some super entity told me that if I didn't, then some war would break out in the distant future and gazillions of people would die. I've been hunted down since I was a teenager, like I'm some kind of trophy animal you can hang on the wall and brag about. Every romance I've ever had ends with nothing but death and heartache, every friend or family member in my life gets dragged into my work. And, oh, by the way, in case you wanted to know — I've died at least three times, so far — and, even now, there's still a part of me that feels dead inside. Does that help?"

Rose said nothing.

"Basically, I'm a wreck," Buffy summarized. She threw up her hands. "A complete melt-downy wreck. My friends hate me. My work-colleagues are scared of me. Even my own sister's shoving me away and I'd…" Buffy's voice cracked. "And I'd do anything for her."

Rose's severe expression softened.

Buffy slumped against the nearby wall, forcing her emotions beneath an indifferent mask. "And here you are. With your mom. And your normal lives. You guys invited me in, and I just…" Wanted to pretend. Wanted to have a mother-figure in her life, again. Wanted to have a sister who didn't hate her. "I don't know."

Rose said nothing for a few long moments. Then came up beside Buffy, putting a hand on her shoulder, empathy in her eyes.

"You wanted a home," said Rose.

"I _have_ a home," Buffy retorted. "It just happens to be inside a giant crater."

Rose examined Buffy, carefully. Her mind trying to puzzle it all out. "Who else did you lose?" she asked. "When your home got destroyed?"

Buffy swallowed. Looked away. And didn't answer.

"Mum gets like this," Rose clarified. "When she talks about Dad. Part of her just… doesn't want 'im gone."

"Spike," Buffy confessed. "His name… was Spike. He was a hero."

She waited for Rose to mention something about how Spike was a weird name, or ask how some 'Spike' guy got trapped in a giant crater, or something like that, but Rose said nothing.

"And I needed him," Buffy whispered.

Rose put a hand on Buffy's shoulder. Extending sympathy.

Buffy shrugged it off, stuffing her feelings back down inside of herself. "But… whatever. He's gone, now. That's what happens to the guys I care about. They… go away."

Or turn evil.

Or get kidnapped and tortured.

Or they kidnap and torture other friends, for their own personal gain.

"You'll find someone," said Rose. "Like I found Mickey. You'll find someone that makes you happy."

"Like Mick…" Buffy stared at Rose. This kid who had such an amazing future ahead of her, with one of the most amazing guys in the universe — and she thought she was happy.

Happy!

When stuff was going on out there that she couldn't even see! Didn't even know! When she was wandering around, living her life like a blind person, not knowing enough to even understand there was something else out there she was missing.

Blind.

"You're not happy," Buffy said.

Rose frowned. "What?"

Buffy turned to Rose, took her by the shoulders. Looked deep into her eyes. Her fake-adopted sister. "Don't settle for this," she pleaded. "Don't let this be your life. Please. If you had any idea what you could _do_ , what you could _be_ …"

Remembering. That girl who'd jumped from universe to universe, determination on her face. The girl who'd told her to never stop trying to save her sister. The girl who, only at the age of twelve, had still been able to fight against the First.

"Dawn," Buffy said. "She's amazing. So amazing. And I tried to push her away from it. Like I tried to push you away from it. And now, you're not even looking for…" She swallowed, pushing back her feelings with a stubborn determination. "Please. Please. Don't accept this as your life. There's more out there. You have to believe me. Just find it. Look for it. Be—"

She was cut off by Jackie, who'd finished with the tea, and had entered the room with teapot in hand, chattering about something completely unrelated. Jackie, who thought Buffy was normal. Who was perfectly happy pretending her world was just as small as she'd always assumed.

Rose gave Buffy a weird look. And Buffy turned away.

Someday, Rose Tyler would meet the Doctor. Run off into time and space. See how much more there was to life than just this. See how important saving people and saving worlds and getting involved could be. Lift her blindness, and understand everything going on around her.

Someday, Rose Tyler would stop being normal.

And for the first time since Buffy had become friends with her, Buffy thought maybe… that was a good thing.

* * *

"I'm guessing this means you haven't forgiven Riley, yet," said Dawn, watching as Riley retreated into the back section of the library, away from Sam.

"I'm… working on it," Sam admitted. She sighed, collapsing onto a chair. "We've been having a lot of late-night talks. We're getting over it."

"Buffy had a pretty hard time getting over it, when it happened," Dawn said. "It was all while she was at college, so I wasn't around, but… Xander said Riley pretty much lied to her the whole time."

Sam didn't meet Dawn's eyes. "I know Riley isn't perfect," she said. "I knew that, when I married him. And I knew there was something about the Doctor and the Initiative that he wasn't telling me. But…" Her face creased, in sorrow. "I love Riley. I really do."

Dawn stopped herself just short of saying, 'Better you than me.' Instead, she shrugged, and said, "It does look like he's changed." She grimaced. "Just… when we do find the Doctor… make sure Riley's way out of the way before the two of them meet. Because the Doctor brings out… kind of a really bad side of Riley."

A murderous, gun-wielding, self-destructive maniac side of Riley.

Sam glanced over at Dawn. "What about you?" she asked. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I am!" said Dawn, in a way that — she hoped — didn't sound too defensive. "What's there not to be okay about?"

"Babylonian prophecy tablets," said Sam, "with transliterated English."

Dawn didn't answer.

"It's probably nothing," Sam assured her. "I mean, chances are, this is all just caused by… you know. The obvious."

"What obvious?" Dawn asked.

Sam opened her mouth to answer, but any sound she gave was covered by the powerful revving sound of engines, surrounding them on all sides. It grew louder, and louder, seeming to surround them, and Dawn couldn't quite pinpoint where it was coming from, until…

Dawn turned her head, because she knew. Could feel. It was coming from there. That direction. That place. And as she looked, the air seemed to rip apart, for just a second, and a motorcycle tore through into the center of the library, its brakes screeching as the world sealed behind it.

The driver — long, brown hair, sunglasses, and an 80's bomber jacket — hopped off the motorcycle, turning to the staring people surrounding her.

"All right," she shouted at them, hands on her hips. "Who's the pea-brained idiot that's been sending out that temporally active psychic…?"

The driver stopped, as her eyes landed on Dawn. "Gordon Bennet!" she shouted. "It's you!"


	34. Chapter 34

Dawn pointed at herself, and mouthed the word, "Me?"

"Oh, that's just…!" the driver gave an annoyed laugh. "You knew the whole time, and never said anything, didn't you? And I thought the Professor was bad."

Dawn blinked. "I… huh?"

"Nothing," said the driver, flipping off her sunglasses. "Don't worry about it. Least not for another few years. All I can say is, when I get home, _someone's_ going to lose all her Nitro-9 holding privileges." She squinted at the area around her. "Where is this?"

"That depends," said Faith, crossing her arms and interposing herself between Dawn and the stranger. "Who the hell are you?"

"Call me Ace," said the driver. She glanced at the library around her, then grinned back at Dawn. "Oh, wait! I know this place! Slayer Institution! Am I right?"

"Yeah," said Faith. "And right now, you're invading. Which means you're under arrest, and if you don't come quietly, you're going to be in even more trouble than…"

"Not again," Ace muttered. She put up her hands, in surrender. "All right. Whatever you say. I know the drill. Just take me to the person in charge, and we'll sort this whole thing…" She frowned. "Who is in charge, now, anyways? And when is now?"

"2004," Dawn chimed in.

"Buffy's in charge," said Kennedy. "And she's not here."

Ace seemed mildly surprised by this. "Dawn's sister? Huh. Never knew she'd been head of this thing."

"'Had been'?" Dawn clarified. "So… whenever you're from, she's not head of the Slayer Institution anymore?"

Ace cringed, then glanced at Dawn and placed a finger against her own lips — a signal to keep quiet. As if the two of them had played these kinds of games a thousand times before.

Then Ace turned back to Faith. "Look, I dunno what you're up to at the Slayer Institution at the moment," Ace told her, "but you're sending out some trans-temporal, telepathic signal, here, and it's destroying my friend. So if you could just show me where to place the Nitro-9, I'll get rid of the problem, leave you all alone, and ride back to nine years from now."

Willow looked up. "Telepathic what?"

"Signal," said Ace. "Across time. I know it's from here. You opened up some great big portal, a day and a half ago. Blondie set up a trace on my bike and I followed it through."

Willow's eyes widened. "That portal…"

"'That portal', as you call it, is killing my friend," said Ace. "Shaun's about to go spare. _I'm_ about to go spare. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to get on with destroying whatever's making my friend regain her memory, give the Professor a good kick in the backside for causing her to lose her memories in the first place, then get back to my normal time before Blondie sets off on another one of her little 'schemes'."

"Wait, wait, wait," said Dawn. "Who's this 'Professor' you keep talking about?"

"You know," said Ace. "The Doctor." She glanced around the library. "He's got to be around here, somewhere. Or my friend wouldn't be remembering."

Everyone stared at Ace. She faltered.

"Oh, no," she said. "What trouble's he in, this time?"

* * *

Dawn sat down by Ace, handing her a cup of hot chocolate. Ace almost didn't notice, for a few seconds, then blinked, and glanced up at Dawn. "Yeah, thanks."

"We're trying to find him, you know," said Dawn. "If that helps." She fidgeted with the sleeve of her shirt, as Ace sipped the hot chocolate, fishing for something to say. Screw it. Might as well blurt it out. "You know me in the future, huh?"

Ace gave a sigh. "I did used to be better about this kind of thing," she assured Dawn. She stared at the hot chocolate. "Out of practice, I guess."

"So you really _do_ know me?" Dawn confirmed. "We're, like, friends or something?"

Ace shot Dawn a grin. "Let's just say, you and me, Key-Girl, we got something in common." She clunked down the hot chocolate onto the table in front of her. "Highly manipulative parental authority figures we can't live with or without."

"Buffy," Dawn sighed. Then frowned. "Hang on. You've got a world-saving overprotective sister, too?"

"More of a genius mastermind universe-saving father-figure," Ace said. She stared off into the distance. "For a long time, I thought he was dead. And I thought... it was my fault."

Dawn grimaced. Yeah, she definitely knew _that_ feeling.

"Well," said Ace, forcing a smile onto her face. "Tell you what. If you're ever facing down the Daleks in the middle of a massive Time War, and your sister comes up to you and says, 'Hey, Dawn, why don't you go fish Davros out of the jaws of the Nightmare Child, so we can take him prisoner?' You don't believe a word of it, because she's just trying to trick you into getting pulled out of the war and winding up somewhere safe!"

"Huh?" asked Dawn.

"Nothing," said Ace. "He does it for the best, you know. Like your sister." She flicked at the hot chocolate mug, making it spin around and around on the table top. "He doesn't deserve this." Another flick, and a spin. "No wonder my friend's remembering."

"Who's your friend?" asked Dawn.

Ace said nothing, just flicked at the hot chocolate mug again.

"You can't tell me," Dawn guessed. "Future stuff. Buffy used to say that."

Ace gave a sad grin. "Always wanted to meet your sister."

"You mean you haven't?" asked Dawn. "In the future, Buffy's somewhere I'm not?"

"Guess you could say that, yeah," said Ace, her grin falling away. She looked up at Dawn. "But whatever happens, we got a good future, you and me. Hanging out with everyone at A Charitable Earth. Raising money and saving the world."

"A Charitable Earth?" asked Dawn. "Seriously? What's that, like, a donation group or something?"

"It's 'something', yeah," answered Ace. She leaned back in her chair, her eyes still fixed on the mug. "Something involving charity, billionaires, apocalypse prevention, and a lot of explosions."

For a few moments, Dawn waited for Ace to continue, but it appeared that this was all the information Dawn was getting about her own future.

"What happened to your friend?" Dawn tried.

But Ace wasn't going to answer that, either.

"Vampires, huh?" Ace asked, instead. "Never faced down a real vampire, before." She gave a half shrug. "Dealt with some Haemovores, battling Fenric. They're like vampires, you know, but with more of a time-paradox, hell-god twist to them."

Dawn winced. "I've got bad experiences with hell goddesses," she admitted.

"Yeah," said Ace, her voice flat. "Got a bad record with those sorts myself." She stared off into the distance, a haunted look on her face, then snapped herself back to reality. "Well, if the Professor's in trouble, we better find a way to rescue him. What do you say?"

* * *

"I think she's one of the Doctor's friends," said Sam. "I vaguely remember him mentioning something about an… Ace… but…" She shrugged. "I don't really know her."

"Elizabeth mentioned her," said Willow. "Remember? When she launched into her crazy diatribe about the Doctor controlling her mind."

"Score one for the suspicious, possibly evil, possibly just completely insane category," Xander replied.

"I find it suspicious that she doesn't know anything about what's been going on, this whole year," Riley chimed in. "Even though she's human. From Earth. And has a working knowledge of military-grade weapons."

"Here's something else for you," said Faith, crossing her arms. "This 'Ace' person — she recognizes the Amulet."

Everyone turned to stare at Faith.

"You mean… the… collapse-the-Hellmouth Amulet?" asked Kennedy.

"She says she helped make it," said Faith. "She and… this other person. Romana… something-or-other. They made it for a friend of theirs. She thought it had been lost."

"This Ace person knew Spike?" asked Willow.

Faith shrugged. "No idea."

"Well, whoever Ace is, Dawn seems to trust her," said Sam. "That's good enough for me, until Buffy gets back." She turned to Willow. "Have you done the spell, yet?"

Willow shook her head. "Tonight," she said. "3 AM. That's when everything lines up enough that I can pull it off."

* * *

It was the first chance Ace could get to slip away from everyone else.

And, yeah, it was 3 AM. But that was okay. Audrey would probably be asleep, and Ace could get this fixed up and over with before she even woke up.

Unfortunately… Audrey was awake.

Audrey shuddered away from Ace, the moment she walked through the door. Ace paused, raised up her hands, and said, in a very soft voice, "It's okay. A friend of mine — she thinks she can help you." Ace raised up a small device. "Before she fell into a coma, that is."

"I… I don't…" Audrey started. She swallowed, then tried, again, "Don't understand…"

"Neither do I," confessed Ace, walking a little closer, very slowly. "Not entirely. But I'm starting to think someone out there's playing games with us. And I'd like to know why."

"I don't know," Audrey said.

"No," sighed Ace. "Course you don't. You're just like Donna. Overwhelmed by memories. Not all of them your own. Not wanting to think too hard, because you'll burn up." She glanced down at the object in her hand. "Don't know what this is. Don't know why you wound up psychically linked through time. Don't know any of it. But Donna thinks this'll help. You."

Nothing could help Donna. The Professor had seen to that.

She handed the device to Audrey, who hesitated, staring at it. Then, in a desperate motion, she grabbed the device towards her.

And screamed.

A light shimmered around her head — a glowing, coursing golden light, like the one Ace had seen, before, appearing around Donna's head every time that Donna got too close to remembering — and then it vanished back into the device, leaving Audrey panting, heavily.

Audrey looked up. Her eyes suddenly clear.

"I know where the Doctor is."

* * *

Buffy closed her cell phone, and for a long moment, said nothing.

"Guess that's bad news, then," Jack proposed.

Buffy glanced over at him. "No, no," she said. "Good. Willow's done the spell. The Tylers are all perception-filter-whatevered, and they can go home, now."

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but Buffy got in, first.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll drop the spell the moment that the TBV thing is all taken care of," said Buffy. "I know. No perception weird stuff when the Doctor shows up to take Rose away."

"That wasn't what I was going to say," replied Jack.

Buffy grimaced. "It wasn't?"

"I was going to say — you still look worried," Jack explained.

Buffy folded her arms, scuffing her shoes along the pavement. "I… think you should go back," said Buffy. "Before me. Just… Will says there's this… other someone who's shown up. All suspicious and stuff. They don't know who she is, but… she's interested in Dawn."

"That makes two of us," said Jack. "Lucky I don't mind sharing."

Buffy punched Jack in his shoulder. Very hard.

" _You_ don't want to go back?" Jack asked, rubbing the injured shoulder.

"I…" Buffy stared down at the sidewalk, biting her lip. What could she say? I've screwed up Dawn's life enough as it is, and she'll appreciate my staying out of her business? I'm sick and tired of hanging around somewhere that everyone either hates me, or is afraid of me — and hearing stories of how the Doctor's getting tortured? I just need a break from feeling helpless and afraid and lonely, for a small amount of time?

Or was she just trying to kid herself that she really was a normal person, with a normal adopted fake-family?

"…I should probably stick around for a little bit," Buffy said. "Just make sure… the Tylers are okay."

Jack examined her, carefully, then nodded. "You're lonely."

Buffy said nothing, but trudged on, eyes glued on the sidewalk.

"That settles it, then," Jack said. He gave her a grin, and a wink. "Can't let a lonely lady stay out on her own."

Buffy rolled her eyes, and was about to snap something back at Jack, when her cell phone rang, again. She checked the caller ID. Willow. Flipped it open.

"Something change from two minutes ago?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah," said Willow. "We know where the Doctor is."

* * *

Ace paced the library of the Slayer Institution. It was 4 AM. She was alone, her footsteps echoing across the shadows of night, her eyes staring into the darkness.

"Can't all just be a coincidence," she muttered. "Nothing's that much of a coincidence."

"Suppose you could say that, again," came Hex's voice, out of the darkness.

Ace stumbled backwards, colliding with a bookshelf. Staring at the emerging figure. "You're… but you can't be…"

"Miss me much?" asked Hex. "No, don't answer. I'll know you're lyin'. You lose one friend who's a Shield, and you get yourself a replacement who calls herself a Key."

"It's not…" Ace hesitated. "I remember you, Hex. Every single day."

"Oh, sure, you say that," said Hex. "But you're as bad a liar as the Doctor. You never really cared about me. Not in the way I cared about you."

Ace swallowed hard. Because she knew… that was probably true. "I cared a lot about you," she tried. "You were my friend."

"Just your friend, then?" asked Hex. "Great. All that and I'm still 'just your friend'. I killed myself for you, Ace. And I'm still just a bloody friend!"

Ace didn't know what to say.

"Tell you what," said Hex. "If you really cared so much about me, why don't you do something to show it, now?"

"I don't…"

"Tell me about the person," said Hex, "who set up that 'trace' on your bike."

Ace stared. Her mind racing. "You're… not Hex," she said, peeling herself away from the bookshelf. "You're not Hex at all." She advanced towards him, her eyes narrowed. "How dare you!"

"Oh, thinks she's so clever?" said Hex, with a cruel smile on his face. "Well, you're right. I'm not Hex. Just using his form."

"To get me to betray my friends?!" shouted Ace.

"Sort of," said Hex. "Actually, I was hopin' to get you out of the way. The Doctor's in my hands, see, and I don't want you trying any heroics when I finally manage to kill him, and destroy whatever future it is you came from."

Ace narrowed her eyes at the specter in front of her. "If this is you, Fenric, I'm way past this."

"See what I mean?" said Hex. "In your future, you don't even know who I am." He gave a malicious smile. "But you will, Ace. In the new, changed future, everyone will."

Ace gave the fake Hex a dangerous expression.

"And you know something else?" said Hex. He nodded behind her. "With my servants all around — you probably should have kept a closer eye on that bike."

Ace spun around, and noticed that there was something very — _very_ — wrong with her bike. She ran towards it, pushing buttons, trying to compensate, but it was malfunctioning in a way that even she didn't know how to fix, and… damn it, what the hell could she…?

A boom of an explosion, and when the light died down, the library was untouched.

But both Ace and the bike had vanished.

* * *

The first thing they discovered, upon finding the site that Audrey described, was the rest of the Babylonian rock carving:

_Bike broke. Stuck in the stone ages. Remember for future, and get help._

_Ace._

_P.S. Tell your sister: happy endings._

No one quite understood what this last statement meant.

* * *

"We've combed the area a few times, now," Dawn explained to Buffy, as they drove over to the place Audrey had described. "But there's nothing. Like, really nothing. Even Audrey was kind of confused."

"But you know the Doctor's there?" asked Buffy.

"Audrey's sure," said Dawn. "Positive. I mean, some stuff's still kind of scrambled in her brain, but at least she isn't insane anymore."

Dawn stopped, and parked the car in front of a tree-filled forested area. She glanced over at Buffy, who glanced back at her.

"Any caves around?" Buffy asked.

Dawn opened the door, and climbed out of the car. "See for yourself."

Buffy tugged on her winter coat, then went out to join the others, already out there, searching. Audrey, standing nearby, had a pensive frown on her face, her eyes staring into the distance.

"Maybe it wasn't here," she told Sam. "I think it was, but… maybe I got it wrong."

"We're searching this area, and all the areas surrounding it," said Sam. "If he's anywhere close, we'll find him."

They turned, as they heard Buffy approaching, and Sam's relief showed on her face.

"Just joining the search," said Buffy. "No need to give me the special treatment or anything." She glanced over at Audrey. "I heard you got better."

"I… yeah," said Audrey. Her face still bent in confusion. "It just hurts to think of… certain… stuff."

"Well, we're glad you're okay," said Buffy. She grabbed the flashlight and flare gun that Sam was offering her, then turned back to Dawn. "Let's go."

* * *

They searched for days. Searched until Buffy thought her nose was going to fall off from the cold. Searched until they decided that Audrey had to have gotten mixed up, and called it off.

Buffy sat on a rock, nearby, her head in her hands, staring at the ground.

"Aren't you cold, just sitting around like that?" asked Dawn.

"No," Buffy lied, biting her lip to keep from shivering.

Dawn hesitated, then stepped forwards. "We are going to find him."

Buffy didn't answer, just kept her eyes fixed on the ground.

"Buffy?"

"I just… need to be alone," said Buffy. She hugged her arms. "For a bit."

* * *

Buffy was lost.

It wasn't her fault. She'd just had a lot of things on her mind, when she'd started walking, and hadn't thought to bring a flair gun, or a flashlight, or anything. Now it was dark, and Buffy was still out here, with frozen toes and numb fingers, trying to think about something other than how much nicer it had been to search for people in California, where it never got this freaking cold.

Movement nearby.

Buffy turned, peering through the darkness. She thought… she could feel something. A twinge, just on the edge of her senses…

She rolled out of the way just in time to avoid the hands that grabbed for her. Springing to her feet, she braced herself for combat, checking in with her Slayer senses, again, but the unseen attacker was too fast for her, and swung her by the arm, impacting her with a nearby tree.

Then… a scream from her attacker.

And next thing Buffy knew, the vampire had let her go, replaced, instead, by a myriad of mitten-covered hands, and a calming but urgent voice, saying, "Don't worry, we've got you, but run!"

Buffy tried to pull away. Turn back. "The…"

"Run!" the voice told her, again, as the many hands yanked her forwards.

Buffy, stumbling on her feet, decided not to question the urgent voices, anymore, and let them lead her away.

* * *

"Okay, who are…?" Buffy trailed off, as they approached the fire, and she could see clearly. The group of women, surrounding her. She arched an eyebrow. Women — but unfamiliar women. So… probably not Slayers, then.

The one who'd been guiding Buffy here — the one with the calm but insistent voice — told one of the girls to keep watch. Then turned back to Buffy, and gave her a reassuring smile.

"I'm Ria," said the girl. "And… I know this is confusing, but... yes, vampires are real, and, yes, they're out here, trying to kill you. We've all had to adapt. But I promise, you're safe with us. We've got a car, nearby, and we can get you back to civilization, if you want. Or you can stay here, and help us. Fight back. It's your choice."

"What happened to you?" asked another girl. "Are you all right? Did you escape?"

"She must have," said the third. "You can see that haunted look in her eyes."

The second girl came over to Buffy. "Jeanette," she introduced herself, and offered Buffy a roll of bread. "It's not much, but it's not meat."

"Wait, you're… huh?" asked Buffy.

Ria turned Buffy's head, examining her pupils. "Not concussed," she said, letting Buffy go. "She might be traumatized like Audrey, though. There's always that chance." She led Buffy over to the fire, and coaxed her to sit down. "Whatever happened to you, I promise, you don't have to worry. We've been fighting these vampires for months, now. We're good at it."

"No, no, no, hang on!" said Buffy. "Audrey. You said Audrey. You're…" She glanced around, noticed the haunted yet determined looks in all their eyes. And suddenly realized. "Oh, my God. You're not just the people who rescued Audrey. You're like Audrey. You're… escaped hostages!"

Ria's eyes widened. "You know Audrey?"

A chatter rose up from the girls, and Ria quieted them with a hand gesture.

"Is she all right?" Ria asked. "We were worried."

"Yeah," said Buffy. "Yeah, she was trying to lead me to…" She glanced around herself. "I guess to here. You guys." She turned back to Ria. "You've all been staying here, in the freezing cold, hunting vampires for months, now?"

"We can't kill them," said Ria. "Or even get back into the hideout. But we keep a lookout for hostages and vampire-kidnapping-situations, and try to get the humans somewhere safe."

"If the vampires don't have hostages, then the Doctor can fight back," Jeanette explained. "And if he can fight back successfully, then this entire war will end."

Buffy blinked. Then blinked again. "You… you know where the Doctor is?" she breathed.

"Of course we do!" said Ria. "Why else do you think we've been sitting here in the cold for months? We're trying to rescue him."

* * *

"There she is!" cried Jack, approaching the campsite and putting away his Torchwood gizmo. "Track the mobile. Always works." He glanced over at the girls surrounding Buffy. "And who are your friends?"

"I'm Ria," said Ria. "That's Jeanette. That's Heather. And Nadia's keeping watch."

Another girl — Nadia — stepped forward, from where she'd been posted to keep watch, and waved at them.

"We got kidnapped by vampires, escaped, and now we're doing our part to get rid of them and rescue the Doctor," Ria continued.

"Ria's been explaining to me how they've been setting up their ambushes and defenses and things," Buffy explained to Jack. "They've worked out who all the vampire lackeys are, who the big-wig vamps are, and when they come out. They know when the vamps are most likely to bring people in, and where. Where they're likely to be, what they're likely to see, when to post lookouts and stuff. Basically, they've got this down to a science."

"The TBVs have been that predictable?" asked Dawn, coming up behind Jack. "They're not like that around us."

"This is their hideout," said Ria. "We see everyone, here. And, besides, the vampires aren't hiding their tracks around us. They don't care about us. We're not a threat." She gave a bitter laugh. "We're not even armed!"

"Ria and the others can't kill the TBVs," Buffy said. "But I've seen these girls in action. They can take a vamp down. Pretty successfully."

"You guys didn't call for outside help?" Sam asked the hostage group. "Not even backup?"

"Who could we call?" Ria asked. "The police don't believe us. Investigators think we're crazy. Our friends and family are all dead. We didn't know about you… Slayer… whatevers. We just thought… there was only us. We did our best."

"I majored in chemistry," Nadia volunteered. "So I started creating some chemical solutions I thought might prove toxic to the vampires. Heather's a biologist, and Jeanette's really great at statistical analysis, so we started figuring out how to cause them damage, and expanded on that."

"And what do you do?" Willow asked Ria.

"You name it, I do it," Ria explained. "I was the first person to actually escape from the vampires." She gestured at the group around them. "This whole thing was my idea."

"I'm pretty sure the Doctor thinks we're all dead," Jeanette added. "I mean, when I was in there, I heard the vampires tell him that no one makes it out of their hideout alive."

"Most don't," Heather muttered. "There've been tons of hostages. Us four and Audrey are the only survivors."

Nadia stared out into the fire. "The only reason I'm still alive is because..." she hesitated, her eyes growing sad, "…at the last moment, I freaked. And ran. And left the Doctor behind."

All the other girls looked away, unease on their faces.

"You guys all left him behind?" Sam demanded.

Ria turned to her. "I've been tortured by some of the most cruel, heartless, evil creatures you could imagine," she said. "The only person willing to defend me or show me any kindness was put through things I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Have any of you had to deal with something like that?"

Giles coughed, shuffling awkwardly.

"I was scared," Ria said. "Terrified. I ran. But I didn't leave. I didn't turn around and walk away, ignoring what happened. I stayed. I fought. And everyone who's escaped from there agrees — we're not letting those creeps get away with what they're doing."

All the girls chimed in their agreement.

"So why haven't you gotten him out, yet?" asked Dawn.

Ria looked at them like they were crazy. "You… haven't seen this stretch of wood in daylight, have you?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Those vampires are in something that looks half-way between a huge basement, and a large cave," Ria said. She gestured at the space around her. "And if it were light outside, you'd see… well, nothing. Their hideout doesn't exist, here."

"There's a number of portals, around," Heather said. "We've tried to access them, but they're restricted. The only way to enter that place is to be carried in by someone without a soul."

"We've been hoping the next escapee will be some kind of robot expert," said Nadia. "Robots don't have souls, right? I'm pretty sure that would work."

"This girl, Molly, back at the beginning — she almost got in, hiding in the middle of a big group," said Heather. "But… they caught her. Killed her."

"They don't take in big groups of people, anymore," said Ria. "At least, not all at the same time, or through the same entrance. They've gotten better about smuggling hostages past us — or better than they were when I first got out, at least."

"According to your own story, when you first got out, the vampires weren't even located here," Nadia said. She turned to the others. "Ria got lucky. When the vampires transported their hideout, they transported her, too. And her car."

Lucky. Again, that word. Lucky.

"My point is," said Ria, "the vampires know about us. They're not afraid, but they're worried. We need to play on that worry."

"They're worried you'll get the Doctor out?" asked Sam.

"No, they think we're stupid, defenseless girls," said Jeanette. "They don't think we can actually rescue the Doctor."

"We'll show them," said Nadia.

"What they're really afraid of is that we'll show the Doctor we're still alive," Ria explained to Buffy. "They're trying to break him. The moment he realizes we're still alive, he'll know they've been lying. He might regain some hope. _That's_ our strength."

"But none of you good-looking girls can get back in," Jack guessed.

"The vampires all know us," said Heather. "They recognize us. They're not going to pick us up a second time. And right now, they're fixated on getting one person, specifically."

"I don't know who their latest target is," agreed Nadia. "But I know she's not one of us."

"Basically, aside from the robot idea, we're out of options," said Ria. "There's no way that any of us could get into their hideout to rescue the Doctor. And even if we could, we wouldn't be able to fight back."

"I could," Buffy offered.

* * *

"I don't like this, Buff," said Xander, the next morning, as they gathered around, trying to work out plans. "I really, really don't like this."

"I'm not jumping with joy myself," Buffy said. "But it's got to be me. They'll probably have a basic physical description, and I'm the only one that fits the bill."

"I must concur with Xander," Giles put in. "As someone who has… first-hand experience with vampire-induced torture… you shouldn't do this."

"They'll never even pick you up, anyways," said Dawn. "They'll recognize you as the Slayer, right?"

"Not if we get the right one," said Heather. "Some are more telepathic than others. We've got a list. If we locate hairy-eyebrows-geeky-glasses, you're completely good to go. That guy's an idiot."

"Your plan should work," Jeanette told Buffy. "I mean, unless they've added some extra security measures around the Doctor, since I escaped. But otherwise, I'm sure, your plan will work."

"Okay," said Buffy, tucking the last pure-iron spiked ornament into her hair. She turned to Ria. "It's… the right-most green knob on the main control panel, and I twist it left."

Ria nodded. "That'll make the hideout visible and accessible to everyone else."

Buffy turned to Jack. "And you'll know how to disable this… psychic barrier whatever thing around the Doctor, once you get in?"

"Should be," Jack confirmed.

Willow raised her hand. "I can help."

"Remember: there are two psychic bubbles," Jeanette told Buffy. "Directly surrounding the Doctor. I mean, they're called 'psychic bubbles', but they're physical, too. And practically invisible. They repress all psychic signals, they repress regenerative energy, bounce you back if you try to go through them… and they really hurt when you run into them."

"They affect anyone with a soul," Nadia added. "You know. Non-vampire people."

"Those with the delta brainwave pattern," Jack said. "Like us. The vampires' minds run along a different psychic frequency."

"Okay, okay," said Buffy. "Got the double psychic bubble thing. Check. But that's okay, because I'm not going to run into the bubbles. I'm just going to zip in there and twist that knob on the control panel thingy. Like we planned."

Everyone nodded.

"And I want an army of people rushing in to get the Doctor out of there, the second I disable their systems," Buffy told them.

"You got the four of us," Ria said. "I can't speak for the others." She glanced over at Faith, a question in her eyes.

"Whatever you want from me, B," Faith told Buffy. "You got it."

"Ooh! I call setting fire to the extra drained-off blood!" Dawn put in.

"When you see the Doctor, I'm warning you, he won't look good," Ria said, handing Buffy a dagger. Buffy hid it in a holster around her leg. "You're going to want to run over to him and help him, right away. But, trust us. You do that, and you're dead."

"No heroics," Buffy agreed. "Got it."

"And don't eat the food," Nadia chimed in.

Everyone looked at everyone else. Then back at the girls.

"Okay," said Xander. "I… don't want to ask what the food is, do I?"

"It's meat, and it's human," said Jeanette. "They don't tell you that until after you eat it. It's their sick joke."

"That's… what they feed the Doctor?" asked Sam. She swayed unsteadily on her feet, and Riley reached out to help her.

The girls all looked at one another, that same haunted look in all their eyes. "No," they agreed. "That's what they feed _us_."

"What they feed _him_ is way, way worse," said Ria.

* * *

Buffy leaned against a tree, staring out into the distance. Waiting.

"Lie to me," she told Giles. "Tell me… when I get in there, the Doctor's going to look fine, and the torture won't have affected him at all."

Giles hesitated. "Buffy, I can't…"

"Please," said Buffy. "Just… lie to me."

Giles stared down at the ground. "Very well," he lied. "According to my personal experience, torture at the hands of a vampire is a breeze. There's nothing…" He stopped. Cleared his throat. "Buffy, you should prepare yourself for this. What Ria and the others have said about their own treatment is bad enough. And we know the Doctor's been taking most of it."

Buffy said nothing.

"If you're distracted," Giles said, "even for a moment, they'll catch you. Everything will be lost."

"I'm focused," said Buffy. "Prepared. In the zone." She gave a little shrug. "Besides. Whatever they did to him, it can't possibly be as bad as what the First did when it tortured…" She trailed off. Then, in a whisper, added, "Spike."

For a moment, neither said anything.

Then, the patter of footsteps, as a breathless Nadia ran up to Buffy. "Found him!" she said. "Big-eyebrows-geeky-glasses. Dumb as a rock."

"That's my cue," said Buffy to Giles. She gave him a reassuring grin she didn't feel, and then went off.

To meet her destiny.


	35. Chapter 35

Vincent had heard the summons back to headquarters, and, as usual, was in a bad mood. They'd been restricting his supply of the Time Lord's blood — leaving most of it for their own inner circle. Vincent wanted it. He craved it. Hungered for it.

They never let him in on any of the fun stuff.

He turned, as he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. The girlies. They were usually somewhere around here — and often not worth the meager amount of blood he'd get from feasting on them. More trouble than they were worth.

Still, if he could smash in that Ria's skull, that'd make him feel better.

"You!" shouted an unfamiliar voice.

Vincent spun around the other direction, and noticed a small blond girl, a proud yet defiant expression on her face, advancing towards him.

Vincent frowned. He was looking for someone, and he was starting to get the impression that maybe this was who he was looking for. He went through his mental checklist. Small? Yes. Blond? Yep. Feisty? Pretty much. Knows the Doctor? Umm…

"What are you doing, just staring at me?" the girl demanded. "My name is Rose Marion Tyler, and I'm looking for the Doctor!"

Oh.

Okay, then.

Vincent grinned, and with a swift, fluid maneuver, tossed the girl over his shoulder. Rose. Oh, yeah. He'd got her, now. Could feel her weak human body kicking and screaming, demanding to be let go. Could feel her cowardly human limbs trembling in fear.

One step, and he was through the portal. Into the front entrance. The guard gave a cruel chuckle, noticing the latest catch.

"Think you got her?" the guard asked, as another vampire tore off the girl's coat, leaving her cold, vulnerable, and shivering in the winter air.

"It's her," said Vincent. "Positive."

The guard looked her over. "She's a pretty one, even if she isn't Rose," said the guard. "We can have fun with her."

The Rose girl looked up and glared at the vampire guard. "You keep away from me," she warned, and struck out at the vampire with all her strength — a weak human push that seemed more like a gentle nudge.

The vampires laughed, as Vincent carried her into the main area.

A moment of silence from the Rose girl, as she entered, and caught sight of her beloved Doctor. A moment of stillness, as she took in what he looked like, now — his altered, destroyed, unconscious visage. Pale face. Body bearing the scars of a thousand different tortures. Cheeks sunken. Hair matted and dirty. Stripped of everything and anything he had, now exposed, vulnerable — torso chained, sitting upright, to a boulder, lower body chained to the ground. The blood machine draining him dry every single day, until he was too weak to do anything about it.

"You…" breathed the Rose girl, and it was almost a threat, the way she said it. Then, she struck out at Vincent, with her pitiful little human fists, shouting, "Doctor! Doctor! Wake up! What have you done to him? Doctor!"

And for the first time since Susie died, the Doctor opened his eyes.

He turned, stared at the Rose girl. His eyes wide. His mouth open. His face growing that much paler.

"What is…?" asked Razor, entering the room, followed by his entourage.

Vincent grinned, showing him the Rose girl. "I've found her, Razor. Rose Tyler."

Razor's face grew red with rage. "You idiot!" he shouted. "That's not Rose! That's the Slayer!"

Buffy, from Vincent's arms, stopped struggling. And smiled.

"Well," she said, "it's about time _someone_ recognized me."

She grabbed Vincent's arm, twisted it until he let her go, then flipped him across her back and into Razor. Ducking into her hair, she pulled out two pins, and launched them at the oncoming vampires, who cried out, stumbling and falling across the cave floor.

A momentary distraction.

All she needed.

Buffy raced forwards, tumbling through the arms of a number of vampires, sliding out of the grips of others, her eyes fixed on the console with the green knob she needed. Just a few steps away…

"Buffy, don't!" the Doctor shouted.

But it was too late.

The sting ripped across her body, as she collided with an unseen psychic barrier, pain tumbling through her every cell, her every limb — even her mind — until she felt the world fade into darkness. And collapsed.

* * *

She awoke to a cry of pain, and Razor's demanding voice, shouting above it: "Again!"

Buffy tried to scramble to her feet, but discovered, instead, that she was in a cage. A cage with thick, unbendable steel bars. Her hands and feet were strapped into manacles, chained outside the confines of her cage. Just beyond it, she could see a faint shimmer of some other — probably magical — containment.

Yeah, they knew who she was, all right. And they weren't taking chances.

"I am the Bringer of Death," came a flat, emotionless, lifeless voice. "The Destroyer of Humanity. The murderer of six billion innocent lives. The Age of Humanity is at an end, and I have ended it."

"Again," demanded Razor.

Buffy stared out at the scene before her — the Doctor, now so frail and torn apart and in pain, wincing as a female vampire (who seemed way too turned-on by the Doctor's pain) ripped off something from his skin, leaving a large red welt.

"I am the Bringer of Death," the Doctor said. "The Destroyer of Humanity. The murderer of…" He stopped.

"Go on!" said Razor. "The murderer of six billion lives…"

The Doctor met Razor's eyes with his own. "Six billion?" he asked. He shook his head. "Oh, Razor. You're in way over your head."

Razor stomped down on the Doctor's chest, and he wheezed.

"Get away from him," Buffy demanded. She reached for her weapons, but discovered they'd been removed. Instead, she tried to look as intimidating as she could, locked away like this.

The vampires looked up. A grin appearing on Razor's face, as he stepped over the Doctor, towards Buffy.

"She's awake," said Razor. "The Slayer."

The cruel laughter of dozens of vampires throughout the room echoed around Buffy. She yanked at the chains, but nothing gave.

"The Slayer and the vampire," Buffy agreed. "See how good they go together? You show up. And then I kill you."

"We've confiscated your weapons," said Razor. "Locked you away in your kennel like the animal you are. The only reason you're still alive…" He glanced back at the Doctor, "...is because he begged us not to kill you." Eyes snapping back to Buffy. "And we love it when he begs."

Behind Razor, the girl vampire ripped another patch of whatever-it-was off the Doctor's bare skin, and he gave a strangled groan.

"Stop that," Buffy demanded. "What are you doing?"

"You brought weapons," Razor explained. "So many weapons! We wanted to tie you down, show them off to you, then skin you alive with them. Literally." His eyes gleamed, flicking back towards the Doctor. "But then he gave us a better idea. Leandra?"

Leandra ripped another patch off the Doctor, then raised it up for Buffy to see. A lump of melted iron on a piece of plastic.

"Your weapons," Razor said. "Melted down. The molten iron poured across his skin. I was surprised the screaming didn't wake you, when it happened."

Buffy felt the overwhelming sense of hatred pouring through her, as she tugged even harder at the unyielding restraints. "Oh, you are so dead."

"Us?" asked Leandra. She laughed. "You've got no one to blame for this but yourself! You're the reason we can do this, again!" She scrunched up the Doctor's hair. "Eternity stuck as our little plaything, and all because _you_ , Slayer, rushed in and tried to save the day."

Buffy hesitated. "What do you…?"

"The Time Lord had a plan," Razor said, his grin widening. "He was going to kill us. Stop the invasion. Put everything right. He had it all worked out — the only way we could stop him was by killing ourselves. Clever, clever Time Lord." He stepped towards Buffy. "Then you came. And we gained leverage. Either he gave up his plans and let us win — or you died."

"And he gave in!" Leandra put in. "Just to keep you safe. You tried to save him, and in doing so, you doomed the world. What do you think about that?"

Buffy opened her mouth to retort something witty and sarcastic, but any response died on her lips, as she noticed the Doctor. Staring straight ahead. Unseeing. A hardness in his face, frustration in his jaw.

"It's lucky for the city of London that we'd set up a tertiary psychic barrier around the control console and the blood machine," Ed put in, from a short ways away. "After all, as the Time Lord already knows, we put in a failsafe. Any living soul that physically tampers with those mechanisms will unleash a wave of radiation across the city of London. Killing millions."

Buffy felt her jaw drop. She'd almost done that. Almost killed off all her London-friends — and had no idea.

"The Time Lord thought he could get around it," Razor put in. "Reprogram the machine psychically. Using the bubbles to his own advantage. Too bad you showed up before he finished."

Buffy stared at the Doctor. He had to have known she was looking for him. Had to have worked out that she'd been trying to fight back. He'd sent her that psychic message, hadn't he?

What had made him lose faith in her?

"I know what you're wondering," said Razor. "Why didn't he expect you? Why didn't he wait for you? Well, he did. Once. Once upon a time, he was sure you'd run in here, any day! Rescue him, defeat us all. Save the day!"

"But you never came," said Ed. "Never showed up. Left him at our mercy."

"Did you even try?" asked Leandra. "Did you even care? Even notice he was missing? Or were you so wrapped up in your own little human toils that you forgot all about him?"

Buffy glared at them. "How dare you—"

"I remember the day he lost faith in her," Razor said. "Decided that maybe, if it was a choice between being rescued by you, and staying with us — he was staying here."

"I remember that," Leandra agreed. "We didn't even have to say a word. At some point, he just knew — you'd failed him."

Buffy stared at the Doctor, hoping for some indication that this wasn't the case, but he didn't meet her eyes. Just stared at the ceiling, bitterness in his face, the tense pulse of anger seizing his limbs.

And Buffy knew — that the vampires were telling the truth.

"Doctor, I promise, I…" Buffy started telling the Doctor, but the words caught in her throat. She swallowed. "I never stopped looking for you."

Razor and the other vampires seemed to think this was even funnier, doubling up with laughter, letting the malicious chortles scrape against Buffy's heart and bury themselves like barbs deep inside her soul.

"They're alive!" Buffy shouted over the vampires. "Ria, Heather, Nadia, Jeanette, and Audrey! You helped them escape, and they're out there, Doctor, alive and fighting back! They've been trying to rescue you!"

A little bit of the hardness left the Doctor's face, as his eyes flicked over to Buffy.

"Razor and the others have been lying to you," Buffy said. "People have been getting out! We've been using the information you gave us — we've been fighting back! You can't just…"

She trailed off, as a large group of vampires entered, dragging a struggling animal-looking-thing in a bag, behind them, then dumping it in front of Razor.

"Oliver," Razor greeted.

Oliver stepped back. "UNIT's secret," he reported, ripping open the bag and dragging out the individual inside. "Joanna Harris' creations."

The creature… appeared human. A normal, human man. But scared, not even able to talk, flinching away from the vampires in a blind terror.

"Test tube humans," Oliver explained. "They don't talk. They don't fight back. But they still scream. They still sob and cry and jabber when tortured. And they taste…" His face transformed into a vampiric snarl, as he plunged his teeth into the terrified man's neck. A grin on his lips, as he pulled away, after a long drink. "…even better than the real thing."

Razor's face transformed, as he grabbed for the terrified, bleeding man. Ignoring protests from both his other two captives, he bit down, tasting for himself. Drinking long and deep, until the man gasped for air, and then lay limp in Razor's arms.

"The third best blood I've ever tasted," Razor agreed. He tossed the man to the ground, like a piece of trash, then glanced over his shoulder at the Doctor. "And, unlike the normal versions, they won't rebel when we lock them up in Farms."

"Or have Slayers popping up across the female population," Oliver added.

"I could construct some sort of virus," Ed proposed, stepping forwards. "Some way to wipe out the humans completely, leaving these test-tube-versions intact. We could breed them as livestock, and claim this world for ourselves."

Razor raised up his hand. "Not the scientists," he decided. "Torchwood, UNIT — any extra-terrestrial specialized group. Sire them, first. _Then_ wipe out the human race."

Leandra gave Razor a sly smile. "Plans?"

"The legends of our ancestors," said Razor, turning to her, "spoke of a time, long ago, in which the vampires were the rulers of existence itself! They would wander from world to world, draining each and every planet of its life force, terrorizing and acquiring as they pleased." He turned, and strode over to the Doctor, yanking him up by the hair. "And with my Bringer of Death at our side, we will live up to the legacy of our ancestors."

They waited for the Doctor to answer, but he said nothing. Wasn't even looking at them.

"Well?" Razor demanded, jerking on his hair. "What do you think of that, Time Lord? Reclaiming the glory your ancestors took from us!"

Still, the Doctor said nothing. His eyes fixed, intently, on — nothing — in the distance.

Razor dropped his grip, and turned around. "All right, then. I'll make you talk." He strode over to Buffy, grabbing a gun on his way, and pointing it at her, through the bars of her cage. "I'll give you a choice, Time Lord. We don't need people anymore. So choose. Either humanity. Or this Slayer."

Still, silence. The Doctor's eyes drifted over to Razor.

"Well!" Razor screamed. "Answer me!"

"Oh, come on, you're going to kill me using a _gun_?" asked Buffy. She tried to cross her arms, but the action was prevented by the chains. "What are you guys, NRA vampires or something?"

Leandra patted the Doctor on the head, with mock-affection. "He doesn't like guns," she whispered.

"Okay, fine," said Buffy, spreading out her arms. "Go ahead. Shoot me. Be the one vampire too lame to take on a Slayer with his bare hands. That'll give you a place in the Slayer-killer hall of fame for sure."

Buffy gave him a confident smile, which faded a hair, as she noticed. The slightly crazed look, in Razor's eye. The way his hands shook, as he held the gun. Almost like… there was something else going on. Something Buffy hadn't noticed, before — some powerful, merciless inner voice inside Razor that just wanted her dead, regardless of how.

"All right," said the Doctor — his voice so defeated, so flat, so… resigned. "That's enough." He gave a weary sigh. "Let her go."

"You would destroy humanity, to see her live?" Razor asked.

The Doctor said nothing for a long moment. Buffy opened her mouth, about to warn him not to, but the Doctor got in, first.

"I suppose," he said, his voice weary, but bitter, "I have no choice."

Razor dropped the gun, handing it over to one of his lackeys. He strolled towards the Doctor. "My Bringer of Death," he said. "My Destroyer of Humanity. The destruction of an entire species — and you're the one to blame."

The Doctor turned, and met Razor's eyes with his own. In a bitter, angry voice, he gritted out, "I know."

Razor's smile widened, as he gestured at the others. "I'll leave you with the Slayer," he said, leaving the room. He paused, then glanced back. "And, of course, you know what she does to nonhuman monsters who destroy worlds."

* * *

The Doctor had seen what really happened. What the others hadn't seen. He'd watched Razor, holding that gun, his eyes trained on Buffy. And seen the other specter, standing nearby, whispering words of vengeance, hatred, anger, and rage into Razor's ear.

The specter glanced over, and caught the Doctor's eye.

"She can't see me," the unknown creature told the Doctor. "None of them can see me. Only you." A dark, challenging stare. "One of you two has to die before your time. Either you, Doctor, or your friend Buffy. I'm not picky. So, which is it going to be?"

And so the Doctor had spoken up. Made his choice.

And told Razor to let Buffy go.

He had no choice.

* * *

"You shouldn't have come," the Doctor said to Buffy, the moment the vampires left. His eyes still fixed on the ceiling. Bitterness and despair lodged in his voice.

"I… had to," said Buffy. "I was trying to rescue you. I didn't know you had some other plan that…"

"Didn't you?" the Doctor demanded. He turned his head towards her. "I needed more time, Buffy. Just a little bit longer. Just another hour or two, and I would have finished all of this! But now you've come. And ruined everything."

"I…" Buffy felt her breath catch in her throat. "You called me Buffy."

"And on top of everything else," said the Doctor, "you've been using the Scythe. One of the most despicable, merciless, truly evil weapons in the entire universe. In your hands. Wielded with pride." His eyes grew dark, with every word he spoke. "What have you been doing with it, Buffy? How many places have you cut out of time?"

"Have I cut out of…?" Buffy paused. Then her mouth fell open, as she realized what this all meant. "You… you've only just…"

"LA?" the Doctor continued. "The Hellmouth? Some alien world? Some distant dimension? When will it be enough, Buffy? When will the Watchers Council and the Slayer finally decide that there's been enough death and killing?!"

"It's a regenerative recycler!" Buffy shouted back at him.

The Doctor blinked. A shred of the anger fading from his face. "I'm sorry?"

"It's a regenerative recycler," Buffy said. "From a vineyard, in Sunnydale. I used it to channel the energy Omega piled up in the Hellmouth, and activate all the Potential Slayers, so they became…" She trailed off, trying to force tears from her eyes, trying to stifle down her emotions, as she confirmed — just due to the look on his face — what she'd feared. "You don't even really know me, yet."

The Doctor didn't answer.

"You… you called me Buffy," said Buffy. "You didn't know about the Scythe. You didn't even know about the Watchers Council being destroyed. This is you… before you found out. You at the beginning." Him as he'd been, just after that first adventure, with Omega. It was that far back in his personal timeline.

Buffy swallowed, painfully.

"Is that all I am to you, right now?" she asked him. "Just… Buffy? The Vampire Slayer whose alter-ego turned into a crazy murdering maniac in another timeline?"

The Doctor didn't answer her.

"I'm everyone else's Buffy," said Buffy. "Everyone else's Slayer. Everyone else's Destroyer-Of-All-Things-Evil. Please — please — just let me be your Elizabeth, again."

Still, no answer.

"I…" Buffy swallowed, gathering up her courage. "I love you. I need you. And so do they." She pointed at the entrance where she'd come in. "Everyone that's out there, right now, Doctor. Waiting for me to come back with you. There's Ria, Heather, Audrey, and Nadia. And Jack — you remember him? Wrong, crazy, can-flirt-with-a-cactus Jack! And Sam. Joanna Harris, back in California; Sarah Jane, in London; Ace, in the future, somewhere. We've all spent the last five months trying to save the human race and save you — at the same time."

The Doctor said nothing.

"I'm here for me — and for them," said Buffy. "I'm here to get you out."

"I'm not leaving here," the Doctor replied, looking away from her. His eyes fixed off into the distance, staring at nothing. "Not alive. You've made that choice for me."

Buffy faltered. "I don't…"

"Someone out there," the Doctor continued, "wants me to kill you, Buffy. No, worse than that. They want me to wipe you out of time and space. As if you'd never even existed." A shadow passed across his face. "He said he'd stop all of this, save the human race, if I got rid of you. And I…" He stopped himself.

Buffy didn't need him to continue. She thought she knew. From what she'd seen, here — from what she'd heard, from the others — from what she'd been told, by Audrey — the Doctor had spent the last five months hopeless, mired in death and pain and guilt, with no chance of rescue. Losing every spark of hope or faith he had left.

He'd been offered a chance for this to stop, if he destroyed Buffy.

And, somewhere deep inside, disgusted by the violence and death around him, he'd wanted to say yes.

"You were right," the Doctor said, his voice flat and dull. "With what you told me, the last time I saw you. It was your birthday — your eighteenth birthday — and you asked me… why keep fighting? Why keep going?" Anger seeped into his eyes. "Sometimes, the night's just black, through and through. Sometimes… there's no hope, no goodness, nothing left to grab onto. No stars."

Buffy scooted forwards in her cage, her hands resting on the bars. "No," she said.

"You were right," said the Doctor. "There isn't good in everyone. Daleks. Vampires. Creatures of pure hate, pure evil. They'll never change — not voluntarily. Never make that right choice."

"No!" Buffy insisted. Saying the words she'd wanted to say to him, ever since she'd discovered the truth for herself. "Doctor, you told me there was good in everyone. You told me I had to offer a chance. And I argued, and I objected, and I smuggled weapons even when I shouldn't have. But, in the end — _you were right_."

No answer.

"Spike," said Buffy, the name filled with so many memories, so many feelings, so many longings and never-weres and wishes.

"Killed two Slayers," the Doctor replied. "Brutal, sadistic, inhuman. Thoroughly vicious."

"And then he fought to regain his soul," said Buffy. "Voluntarily. And won. He got a choice, and he chose to make himself better. He chose…" She swallowed down a lump in her throat. "He chose to give up his own life, to close the Hellmouth and save the world."

The Doctor glanced over at her, a little surprised. "Sorry, he what?"

"Spike," Buffy said. "A vampire. Evil, heartless, cruel. He made the right choice. He became a hero." She felt her hands shaking, as she tried, so hard, to make the Doctor see. "I'll never forget that. It's like you told me, Doctor — everyone's got some good in them, even vampires. I know that, now. Anyone — even Razor and the others — could choose to do what Spike did. If they were just handed the right choice, they could make themselves better."

Buffy expected a glimmer of hope to emerge inside his eyes. She was expecting him to smile at her, the way he always smiled. She was expecting happiness, thankfulness, a renewed determination.

Instead, every expression and emotion left the Doctor's face. And he stared at her, empty, vacant, removed from the outside world. "Ah."

"Doesn't that make things… more starlighty?" Buffy said.

"No," the Doctor told her. "Just makes things…" He hesitated. "Complicated. Far, far more complicated." A hint of bitter, horrified pain traced down his cheek, and he shuddered — as if against the cold. But not.

"I don't—" Buffy started, but she didn't have time to finish. Because, at that moment, Razor and the others re-entered the room. And there was a hunger in their eyes, an eagerness in their posture, a desire twitching at their every muscle — that made Buffy's stomach turn.

"Time for your punishment, Time Lord!" Leandra chirped.

The Doctor didn't answer, but there was a sort of haunted disgust that sprung up in his face. Burrowed through his eyes.

"Susie Chesterton," Razor announced. Then nodded at the others, who brought forth the plates of… cooked meat. "It's been a while. But don't worry. We had her pickled for you."

The vampires nearby giggled in excitement and delight.

For the first time since Buffy had seen him — the Doctor met Razor's cruel eyes with nothing but a defeated, despairing resignation. That same pain she'd seen, ever since she'd mentioned Spike, still evident in his eyes. His entire body limp and sagging, as if he'd finally admitted to himself that he'd fought a foe he could not defeat. That he'd lost.

"I refuse," the Doctor said. But it was almost half-hearted, the way he said it.

"You always say that," Leandra complained. She grabbed a chunk of meat on a fork, and sidled over to him, shoving it in his face. "But your life depends on their deaths, now. Just the same as us. You want the hostages to die, so you may feed." She tried to thrust it in his mouth, but he turned his head away. "How long before you hunger for death, just as we hunger?"

He tried to push her away, but the restraints wouldn't let him.

"Oh, come on," Leandra cooed. "Nourish yourself with the lives of your human friends. Revitalize yourself by living off their failed attempts at freedom."

Once again, the Doctor refused.

The other vampires, by this point, had come over as well, with plates and forks and chunks of meat at hand, trying to get the Doctor to eat. Surrounding him on all sides, his every disgusted glare making them shiver with want and desire, his every glimpse of pain and guilt making them twitch with eagerness.

It was sick. Revolting. But it had only just started. Audrey had said what the vampires did to the Doctor after they fed him. Buffy could see it coming.

"Eat, Time Lord," Oliver commanded the Doctor. "Take your punishment. If you refuse — or do something stupid, like regurgitating little Susie's remains — we'll kill your Slayer."

"Oh, no," said the Doctor, spitting out the chunk of meat thrust into his mouth the moment it opened. "You're using Buffy's life to bargain for the world. You want to know how far I'll go to keep her alive. You won't kill her over something as petty as this."

Razor, from where he stood, away from the others, just folded his arms, a sneer on his face. "You know," he said, "there is a rumor that Slayers make excellent lovers. Willing or unwilling. And their blood — apparently — makes the perfect aphrodisiac. I've always wanted to test that."

"You and what army?" Buffy challenged.

But — there it was, again. That pure and utter hatred, just beneath Razor's calm exterior, the complete rage and malice that told Buffy that he'd damn well do it — and enjoy doing it — because there was something else inside him. Something that _hated_ her.

(Not like that narrowed down the possibilities of what it was, any. _Everything_ evil hated Buffy.)

Something lifeless and empty emerged in the Doctor's eyes, as he looked at Razor — or was it past Razor? — and then slumped. And gave in.

The vampires, seeing their chance, pounced on him.

Buffy stared, her hands shaking, her mind unable to block it out, as she watched what had begun with food change into something else. As she watched the Doctor let it happen, let the vampires first feed him his friend's remains, before… doing something else to him. Always, with that lifeless resignation inside of him — as if he'd been shattered apart, and could no longer let anything out at all. Buffy watched… as the vampires did things… she didn't want to think about.

Hadn't even wanted to imagine.

"You want him," came Razor's voice, slithering inside her ear. The cool, dead breath tickling her earlobe.

Buffy didn't answer, her hands clutching the unbendable bars a little tighter.

"The other hostages all looked away, when this happened," said Razor. "They tried to block it out. But you…" A fascination in his voice, as he continued, "…you want him even more than we do. You hunger for him."

Buffy opened her mouth to retort, but any reply she had dried up on her tongue.

"Oh, I can see it in your eyes," said Razor. He laid his cold hand on her own — clutching the bars — and stilled the tremble racing through her fingers. "How many times," he wondered, "have you fantasized about doing the things we're doing, now? How often have you lain awake, in bed, wanting him to touch you, wanting him to make you squirm with delight — and knowing he never, ever would?"

"It's… not the same," said Buffy. Still unable to tear her eyes away. "I love him."

"You want to claim him," Razor corrected. "Make him yours, and yours alone. Lock him away forever, so that you're all he has left." He gave an amused hum. "Then, maybe, he'll do to you as he does to us."

A loud moan from Leandra, and Buffy shifted, trying not to let Razor's words sink in, trying to repeat to herself that they weren't — _weren't_ — true.

"It's not the same," Buffy insisted.

"Let's see," said Razor. Taking his hand away, and standing up straight, rushing into the crowd of vampires and breaking them up. They were angry — vicious, lashing out, but accepted Razor's command reluctantly, climbing off the restrained Time Lord and sulking.

Razor then went back to Buffy's cage, and undid the lock.

"The second I get out of here," Buffy warned him, "you're dead."

Razor reached inside and grabbed her up, the unbreakable chains ripping to shreds under his strength, his eyes glowing with malice and hatred. "No, Slayer," he said. "The moment you stop amusing me, I will tear you limb from limb. And I'll have as much fun with your Doctor as I want, while I feed you to him."

Buffy lashed out, but he kept a firm grip on her, not letting her go or even giving her the chance to gain the upper hand. As Ed stood nearby, pressing buttons on the console that controlled the psychic bubbles, Buffy found herself thrown in a heap, right on top of the Doctor. The sound of the bubble resealing around her resonating through her mind.

"You want him so badly," said Razor. "Take him. I dare you."

Buffy raised herself up, eyes leveled at Razor. "If this is your idea of a sick joke—"

"Oh, like we don't all know you can barely keep your hands off of him!" Oliver called back. "Geeze."

"Fine," said Razor. "Let's make it easy. You think he wants you the way you want him? Then go ahead. Take him. And if you don't, you'll die."

"Buffy," the Doctor said.

She turned to him, and… there he was. Her name, falling from his lips, no longer sending any telepathic whatevers through her. His eyes no longer quite as lively or excited as she remembered. His body tortured, drained, and beaten down.

But he was here.

She reached out, to touch his cheek, then hesitated. Stopped. She didn't… she couldn't…

"Buffy," the Doctor repeated.

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut. "Please," she whispered. "Please. Don't…" she took a deep breath. "Elizabeth. You've always called me Elizabeth. You're the only one who ever…" She trailed off, as she opened her eyes.

And found he was still here.

She reached out — as if in a dream — tracing his jaw-line with her fingertips. Here. All hers. The one person she'd longed for so much, over the years. The one person she'd needed, deep inside her heart. The one hope she'd had left — after coming back from the grave — to save her.

"I love you," she whispered.

And kissed him.

(Trying to block out everything else. Trying to block out the jeers from the other vampires. Trying to block out where she was and who she was and why she was, and just feel that he was with her, at last. And she loved him so much.)

Pulled him closer. Her hand in his hair, trying to make him feel the way she felt, trying to reach inside and find that spark of sunlight, deep within his mind…

She pulled away.

"The… the thing," she said. "The… telepathic… thing. It's… I mean, I can't…"

She stared down at him, in horror, as it all added up. The lack of a telepathic brush, when he said her name. The complete and utter blank, when she tried to access his mind. She'd been mildly telepathic, once. But then she'd died, and come back to life — mostly the same, but a little different.

What if this was the 'different' part?

What if she could never again feel what it was like to be a part of him? What if, in giving up her shard of his soul, jumping into that portal, she'd given up the only way she could ever be intimate with him?

"Buffy," said the Doctor, again.

"Elizabeth," Buffy corrected.

"Just… skip that bit," the Doctor told her.

Buffy blinked. "Huh?"

"Skip that bit," the Doctor repeated. "The… telepathic bit. Not important. Just… do it the human way."

Buffy hesitated. There was something in his tone that made her feel uneasy. Made her feel like… maybe… that wasn't such a good idea. "Why? What happens to you if I do it the human way?"

"Buff—Elizabeth," the Doctor said. "Trust me. You don't want to be in my mind. Not the way it is, now."

"What happens to you if I do it the human way?" Buffy asked, again.

The Doctor said nothing for a long moment. Then, "Razor will kill you, if you don't."

Something Buffy remembered floated through her mind — during that incident, with the Facksisil of Balime, when the Doctor had contemplated the idea of having non-telepathic sex. And shuddered.

"It wouldn't be good for you," Buffy said. She felt her breath catch in her throat. "It'd be like forcing you. I'd be…" She looked up at the vampires around her, all laughing and sneering, some still sulking. Razor giving her a proud grin, malicious eyes staring back at her.

The Doctor wouldn't let her in his mind. She'd take from him — hurt him — and leave him broken because of it.

She'd be doing what all the other vampires had been doing to him, this entire time.

"You don't understand what's happening, here," the Doctor told her. "There's something else at work. Someone manipulating events from behind the scenes. It's either your life, or mine."

Buffy pulled away from him. "Easy choice," she said. Easy, when she'd been dead before, been dead without him, been living on borrowed time and unable to bear the pain of losing — first Spike, and now the Doctor.

"Buffy—"

"Elizabeth!" Buffy snapped. "Would you stop calling me Buffy? I'm trying to be all heroic sacrifice for you, and it's not helping when you keep Buffying me around!"

"Elizabeth!" the Doctor said. "That wasn't what I meant! There's psychic manipulation at work. Some mind so powerful, it can control every single vampire here! Is trying to control me! Some mind that hates you with a passion. Don't you understand? It's trying to convince me to wipe you out of—"

"And that's time!" shouted Razor.

He stepped forwards. His eyes glowing, his hands raised, fangs bared in primal pride. Around him, every other vampire slowly stepped forwards, imitating the gesture. Exactly. As if they were a part of him.

Buffy and the Doctor glanced around. Buffy having a horrible feeling that she really — really — didn't like what this might imply.

"A distraction," the Doctor muttered. "It was all a distraction."

"Oh, yes," said Razor, and the voices of five other vampires spoke with him, in unison. "Exactly the distraction we needed, at exactly the moment we needed." He raised up his hands, and a gale of wind seemed to whisk around him, blowing from nowhere, then dying down.

"Welcome, Time Lord, Slayer," Razor announced, his voice echoed by every other vampire around. "Welcome to singularity!"

* * *

The vampires circled them both, eyes hungry, power floating around them, almost visible in the wind. Buffy, instinctively, grabbed the Doctor's hand.

"Can we bite him, now, Razor?" asked Leandra. "Can we make him bleed? Can we make him die?"

"Nothing can harm us, in the singularity," Razor confirmed. "You may kill him. But — try not to kill him too many times. We want to leave some regenerations available, so we can kill him again sometime in the future, don't we?"

Buffy tried to position herself in front of the Doctor, protectively.

"More time," the Doctor muttered. "I just needed a little more time. Just a smidge. That was all."

"And what about the Slayer?" asked Oliver. "Can we destroy her? Can we destroy them all?"

Razor's eyes glowed, as they landed on Buffy. He gave a snarl, nodded over at Ed, who adjusted the psychic bubble, letting Razor yank Buffy out of it.

"Oh, no," he said, dangling Buffy in the air before him. "Not this one. She's so virtuous and good. She can't even find it in her heart to take what she wants." He leaned in closer. "So, guess what? It's your lucky day, Slayer. I'm going to take away that pesky conscience of yours. And let you have your Time Lord — forever."

Buffy's eyes grew wide. Remembering.

_Die with me._

The way it felt, letting his blood revitalize her, letting him die in her arms, still loving him and yet being willing to take him against his will.

_Your nightmares will come true._

That need, inside of her, to make him like her. To make him become evil, become dead. To keep him with her, forever, no matter what. She knew, then, without a shadow of a doubt — that if she were sired, she _would_ kill the Doctor.

And she'd been shown, back in 2003, exactly what the First would do, if that chance ever…

Oh.

_Oh._

Buffy stared at the Doctor, lying, prone, just in front of her, an apparition appearing behind him. A perfect non-corporeal replica of Buffy, herself — a proud, cruel smile on her face, leaning over the Doctor as if claiming him as her own.

And Buffy realized, in horror, exactly what was about to happen.

"No!" Buffy shrieked, lashing out with all her strength, trying to wrestle herself free. "No, no! You don't understand. Death for _all_! That's what it means. If you do this — the First will take over. It'll take the Doctor. It'll take the TARDIS. It'll take the Key to Time. _Everyone_ in the whole universe is going to die!"

The vampires laughed at her — their every chuckle in unison, a single organism sharing a joke.

"You're being manipulated!" Buffy shouted. " _You're_ not in control of the singularity! _The First_ is! Sire me, and you're all going to die. Everyone, everywhere is going to die!"

"Come on, I'm longing for a taste," said Razor, tipping Buffy's chin up to him. "Slayer blood. The vampire aphrodisiac." He licked his lips, and for a second, Buffy didn't know if he was going to kiss her, or kill her.

"Razor," the Doctor said, his voice quiet, yet harder than steel. "I've warned you, before. You don't want to make me lose my temper."

"The Time Lord still thinks he can bargain!" Leandra cried, delighted. She turned to Razor. "Kill her, Razor. Kill her, now. Feast upon her blood, and rule eternity!"

Razor's face morphed, and he dove towards Buffy. In a panic, she kicked out at him, with all her strength, catching him in the face and flinging him backwards, head over heels, colliding with the chained-up Doctor. Razor picked himself up, rubbing his forehead, where it had impacted. A small red bump welled up on the Doctor's own.

"You're going to pay for that, Slayer," Razor said, lunging towards her, seizing her in his grip. He dragged her towards him. "I might have made your death pleasant. But now… it will be agony!"

Buffy stopped struggling. And stared at Razor.

Then, she gave a grin. And a giggle.

Razor, noticing the change, glanced at the others. Then back at Buffy. "What?" he demanded. "What's so funny?"

"You didn't notice?" asked Buffy.

Razor seemed none the wiser.

Buffy leaned in, and whispered, "Your hand. It's warm."

Razor jolted backwards, raising up his hand, his eyes growing wide as he saw the golden glow beginning to ripple across his skin.

"No," said Razor. "No! That's not possible! It's not…"

The others, nearby, dropped Buffy, all shuddering away from Razor, their eyes fixed on the spreading golden glow, gliding across the vampire's skin.

"This is singularity!" Razor shouted. "I am invulnerable! Invincible! Nothing can stop me! Not even the Time Lord's regeneration can…!"

" _My_ regeneration can't stop you, no," the Doctor agreed. "But _I'm_ not the one regenerating, am I?"

Razor turned on the Doctor, all masks gone, a raw, horrified terror draped across his face. "You!" he shouted. "What have you done?"

"You have enough of my blood pouring through you, now, that the moment you fell in here, with me, I could trigger your regeneration process," the Doctor replied. "You're about to explode in a burst of artron energy, and — well, even a vampire should know. You can't regenerate without a soul. You'll burn the old body away and have nothing to replace it." His eyes, dark, angry, and bitter, bore into Razor, who was now becoming more and more engulfed by the golden energy. "A horrible end for any individual vampire. But _you_ — you've united all the vampires together in a singularity, haven't you?"

A cry of alarm, as Oliver stumbled back, his own hands beginning to swirl with the golden light.

"It's spreading," Leandra breathed.

"Oh, yes!" the Doctor shouted. "And it'll never stop. It'll never, ever stop! The energy will go from one vampire to another, all across the globe, wiping out your entire singularity in a burst of regenerative power! And that burst of energy will ripple across the world, burning away any stragglers — any stray vampires nearby, who haven't drunk my blood, until none of your miserable species is left!" He leaned forwards. "Congratulations, Razor! Because you've just become responsible for the death of your entire worthless, hateful, malignant species!" A quick glance towards Buffy, before fixing his eyes back on Razor. "I warned you not to make me angry."

Leandra raced forwards, shoving both Razor and Oliver into the psychic bubble, then spun around towards Ed. "Turn the psychic resistance levels up to maximum!"

He scrambled forwards, trying to adjust knobs and levers, but his eyes were wild and terrified. "I… I can't!" he said. "The bubble, it's… it's built to hold in _his_ psychic energy! Not ours!"

"We can't just—!" Leandra trailed off, and screamed, as she realized that the glow had surrounded her, as well.

The other vampires littering the cave area began to scatter, trying desperately to flee the enclosure, trying to flee the inevitable, when there was nothing they could do.

Buffy ran forwards, stopping just short of the tertiary psychic bubble. "Doctor!" she called, her voice on the edge of panic. "Angel!"

"Mobile," the Doctor told her, nodding over to the entrance area, where Buffy had been stripped of her possessions. "It should still be functional."

Razor ran towards the Doctor, revenge in his eyes and malignance in his stance, but never made it close enough to the Time Lord. For, with one final howl, Razor burst into a shower of golden sparks, and disappeared.

Buffy turned, and ran. She could feel the change — the ripple — pulsing through the world. Could feel the alteration through every one of her Slayer senses. As the vampires began to burn away, one by one, through every city, every town. Buffy could hear the screams of the other vampires, just in the main cave area nearby, as they began to howl and writhe, and then exploded into light and vanished.

With clumsy fingers, she grabbed up her cell phone, and dialed.

Angel picked up on the third ring.

"Angel?" Buffy shouted at him. "Angel, are you okay?"

"Buffy?" Angel said, his voice sounding severely shaken. In the background, Buffy could hear a cacophony of vampiric shrieks and shouts. "Yeah, yeah, I'm…"

Two loud voices near the receiver — a man and a woman, Buffy thought, although it was hard to hear them distinctly above the background noise.

"Buffy, what's going on?" Angel asked.

"The TBVs," said Buffy. "They reached singularity. The Doctor triggered a regenerative cycle inside of them. It's pulsing across the whole world, wiping out the vampires, and…" She paused. "Why aren't you being vaporized right now?"

A muffled sound from off-phone.

"She says it's regenerative energy," Angel explained to his audience. "She wants to know why we aren't being affected."

"Well, tell her all the regenerative energy rushing towards us is getting funneled into that bloody Amulet!" snapped a very familiar English-accented voice.

A voice Buffy recognized. A voice Buffy knew she should never have been able to hear again.

"Spike?" Buffy cried.

"What'd she say?" came Spike's voice.

"I think she just worked out that you're still alive," Angel explained to his off-phone audience.

"I don't… but I thought…" Buffy tried to steady herself, before she fell over, but her whole world was spinning. "Spike died! I saw him… he traded his life for the world. I don't… how can he…?"

"Gimme that," shouted Joanna, grabbing the phone from Angel. Then, into the receiver, "Buffy, did the Doctor tell you to phone us?"

"What?" Buffy blinked. "Um… yeah. Yes!"

"Did he know Spike was alive?" Joanna asked. "Was that why he wanted you to get in touch?"

"No, he… he didn't even know Spike was… soul-ful," Buffy said.

"And he knew that you trusted him?" Joanna continued. "That you'd believe him, if he just told you what the Amulet actually did, and what happened to us?"

A horrible feeling sprung up in Buffy's chest. "Yes…"

"Then there's only one reason he sent you away to call us up!" Joanna shouted. "He's trying to get you out of the way, so he can do something heroically suicidal!"

But Buffy had already begun to run. Back, back towards the main area, back towards the Doctor, back towards the last few bursts of light — vampires screaming out in terror, as they died. And — there! She found him. The Doctor, draped across the psychic bubble/exterior camouflage control console thingy, looking so weak he could barely remain upright. Wires in his hands, a pained look in his eyes.

He met hers with his own, as she entered.

"Just needed a bit more time," he apologized to her, as the console began to glow red hot beneath him.

Then the console exploded, blasting him across the room, slamming him into the back wall.

With a final, desolate hum, every psychic bubble, every mechanical restraint system, every camouflage or electrical device blinked out, leaving Buffy in complete darkness — save for the appearance of daylight, through the seven different entry points around the room.

The Doctor lay slumped against the ground, eyes shut, unmoving.

The phone dropped from Buffy's hand, and clattered against the stone ground. "No." She ran over, scrambling, pulling him towards her. "No, no, no, no, no." Frantically searching for a pulse, or a breath, or something. Anything! Anything!

But his breath was so faint. Fainter and fainter, evaporating into the air around her, until it died away, all together. And Buffy, his body in her hands, felt a horrible icy numbness settle across her.

"Wake up," she whispered.

No answer.

"Wake up," she repeated. "Wake up. Wake up! Wake up!"

* * *

They found Buffy, there, kneeling in that exact spot in the cave, scarcely able to notice what was going on around her, still holding the Doctor as if he were all she had left. And as the hospital emergency staff for the Slayer Institution pried the Doctor away from her, as he was placed on a stretcher and rushed away, as Xander and Willow came over to her, lifted her up to her feet and tried to comfort her — Buffy met none of their eyes. Just kept mumbling the words, over and over and over again.

"Wake up," she said, "wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up."

"He's not dead," Willow told her. "We're getting him back to the Slayer Institute. They're specialists in supernatural medicine — they can fix him."

"He's going to be okay," Xander promised. "He's going to wake up."

But she didn't stop. Didn't stop saying it. Didn't respond to any of them.

"Buffy?" asked Dawn, approaching, hesitantly.

Buffy glanced up, met Dawn's eyes with her own, shining with unshed tears. She reached forwards.

"I can't wake up," she said, grabbing her sister by the shoulders. "I'm not waking up. Wake me up! Please! I can't stand the nightmares anymore! Just wake me up!" She shook her sister, and shouted, "Wake me up!"


	36. Chapter 36

"He's okay," came the report from the doctors at the Slayer Institute. "He got a very dangerous dose of radiation poisoning. If he was human, he'd be dead, but judging from the notes we've got about his physiology… he should pull through."

It soon became clear what had happened. Everyone had pieced it together, based on what they knew. The Doctor had been trying to disable the London-destroying failsafe inside the console by reprogramming it psychically, filtering his mental energy through the psychic bubbles. He'd been close — but Buffy had come in just before he'd finished. The vampires' flood of regenerative energy, once it hit the console, had fried the controls, and the failsafe had activated.

But because the Doctor hadn't had enough time, he hadn't managed to stop the release of radiation. He simply redirected it to flood the cave area he was in, instead of London.

Buffy — the only other person in the room at the time when the radiation had been released — was checked over. And declared completely fine. Radiation free.

Could the Doctor absorb radiation? Would he have realized Buffy had just entered the room, and chosen to absorb the full blast of it, in the hopes that he'd save Buffy's life? Could be. No one really knew the full oddness of the Doctor's physiology.

"He does seem to be doing quite well," the doctors at the Slayer Institute informed them. "He'll probably be up and on his feet in a few days."

It was a lie.

Days went by. Then a week. And the Doctor remained unconscious.

"I don't understand it," one of the staff doctors told Willow. "There's absolutely no healing process happening at all. If you pricked his finger, I don't think the blood would even congeal across the wound."

"He must have messed something up with his regenerative energy," Jack muttered. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

"Or maybe he…" Willow paused, then gave a grimace. "Never mind."

"What?"

"Well, Buffy said… the First had been talking to him," Willow said. "We've all had experience with that. Maybe he's not healing because… he doesn't want to wake up."

The Doctor didn't wake up.

But that didn't stop the world. That didn't stop events from continuing, reports from coming in, and evil from spreading.

"The incident wiped out 99% of the vampire population on Earth," Giles told them. "Possibly higher even than that. But some did survive — mainly those who'd fled civilized society, and were dwelling around the arctic circle, living off the local wildlife. A handful of… more conventional vampires… survived simply because they got lucky."

"And those lucky vampires are currently doing what to retaliate?" asked Dawn.

"Oh, I shouldn't worry about them," Giles replied. "They've all fled. Particularly around this area." A pensive frown on his face. "In fact, I should think no vampire will approach this area for rather a long while. Particularly not while the Doctor is around."

"The vamps that survived have started calling the Doctor 'the Bringer of Death'," Kennedy told them, after one of her patrols. "Same title. Different meaning. Now — it's a warning."

From UNIT, Torchwood, and the US Army, they heard a different story.

"It's crazy," said Sam, "but the moment all the vampires disappeared, there was a rush of alien invasions. It's like… someone took a look at the world, and said, 'the vampires are gone? Well, you guys aren't nearly evil enough, anymore! Have some extra evil on the side!'"

"The Balance," Faith commented. "Makes sense. Get rid of the vamps. Wind up with aliens. Balance always finds a way to compensate."

The next day, Sam announced that she and Riley were leaving.

"Of course I'd like to stay and say hi when the Doctor wakes up," Sam explained to the others. "But we've got reports of weird, possibly extra-terrestrial phenomena occurring in Nebraska, and someone has to look into it!"

Graham offered to send the rest of the team on ahead, but Sam refused.

"The thing is," she confessed to Willow, when they were alone together, "I've forgiven Riley. I think he's changed, and… I really do love him. A lot." She grimaced. "I just think… it would be better for everyone… if Riley wasn't around when the Doctor woke up. Just in case."

An hour later, and they were gone.

Buffy didn't react to their departure.

Didn't react to the news that the Doctor wasn't recovering. Didn't react to the news about the vampires. Didn't react to the news about alien invasions.

"She's even worse now than she was after Spike died in the Battle of…" Dawn paused. "I mean, after she _thought_ Spike died in the Battle of the Hellmouth." It was hard to get used to saying that. "At least, then, she had a Slayer Institution to set up and a real purpose. Now…" Dawn shrugged. "I guess not."

"Her Spike friend's alive," Jack offered. "When she thought he was dead. At least that's something for her to be happy about."

But when Buffy was asked about this, she simply turned away, and said, "I'll just let him get on with his Buffy-free existence. After all, he didn't even want me to know he was alive. He doesn't really want me around, messing him up."

There were calls from LA. Many calls. Buffy didn't take them. Smashed up her cell phone, and never bothered to replace it.

"If we don't fix the Doctor, soon, we're going to lose Buffy," Xander pointed out to them all. "And I'm not going to stand aside and let Buffy destroy herself like this."

"Like what?" asked Buffy, approaching them. Her voice flat. Her face expressionless. She was standing with that familiar I'm-the-Slayer-and-nothing-can-affect-me-emotionally stance, her eyes drifting across her gathered friends. "Like I deserve?"

"Buffy, I'm dreadfully sorry about all that's happened," Giles said. "Truly, I am. But… these events were hardly your fault. You couldn't have prevented them. You must know that."

"Of course I know that," said Buffy, in a voice thoroughly unconvincing. She pushed past them, and towards her office. "I've just got things to do."

They looked after her. Then back at each other.

"We've got to fix this," Xander said.


	37. January, 2005

"I am worried," one said to the other, "about the Doctor."

"The Doctor is none of our concern. The temporal loophole is over, and the contract is back in effect. You know what that means."

A pause. Then, "Wouldn't we be leaving him to die?"

"If he dies, he dies. We cannot interfere." A moment of hesitation, then, "It might be better for us if he does die."

"How so?"

"If he ever discovers the truth behind what we've done — what we're about to do — he'll try to stop us."

"Are you sure?"

"Think about it. He is, after all, the Doctor. It's inevitable."

"I still don't like it. The Doctor has nothing to do with this. We should never have gotten him involved."

"But he is involved, now. He has to be. Because Buffy Summers made it so."

"One wish, and it all comes to this." Shaking his head. "What a shame."

* * *

"Where else can we go?" Ria asked Dawn. "We've got no families. No jobs. Our old lives are gone. And no one's ever going to believe us about any of this 'vampire' stuff."

"Well, there's always the usual," said Dawn. "Torchwood. UNIT. The US Army."

"I'm not military," said Ria. "Not at all. And I can't solve an equation to save my life, so there's no way I'm going in as some kind of… scientific advisor or anything. And as for Torchwood…" She shook her head. "After finding out about their founding charter and mission statement? No way. I'm not working for an organization whose goal is to kidnap and imprison the guy who saved my life."

Dawn nodded. "So… here it is, then."

"I guess," said Ria.

"Buffy told me she'd be totally happy to have you guys on board," Dawn told Ria. "I mean, I know none of you are Slayers, or anything, but we can find stuff for you to do to help out."

"Help," Ria repeated. "You mean 'help' in the way they let you 'help', with everyone always afraid you'll trip and fall and hurt yourself? Or do you mean 'help' in the way that means I actually try to get out there and make a difference?"

Dawn hesitated. "Probably… the first kind," she admitted.

Ria said nothing, her hands in her pockets.

"You can understand their point of view, I guess," said Dawn. "I mean, they're Slayers, and superhuman, and…"

"You don't believe that," Ria pointed out. She turned to face Dawn, folding her arms. "I've seen you working here. You're worth your weight in gold. You're way more go-get-em than basically any of these Slayers — and they coop you up, here, behind a desk. It doesn't make sense."

The annoying thing about it was that Dawn really wanted to jump up and shout that Ria was right, and this was exactly what _she'd_ been saying for only about forever, now! But… with everything happening the way it was happening…

"Buffy's doing what she thinks is best," Dawn insisted. "I mean… look at Willow and Xander and people! She lets normal people save the world. She even wants to hire you guys, right?"

"I'm not trying to criticize your sister," Ria explained. "I'm just pointing out to you. Your system doesn't work. It's fundamentally flawed."

Dawn bit her lower lip. She hated it when people made really good points that she could do nothing about.

"And what about the mentality of the girls that are being trained?" asked Ria. "I know Buffy doesn't believe she's superior to normal humans, but… have most of these girls even met Buffy?"

Dawn grimaced. She had to admit that, because Buffy had been away so often…

"No," she said. Then, with a sigh, "Actually, basically none of them have."

"So Buffy has a healthy mentality," said Ria. "But she's never here, so the students aren't getting any of that. The next generation of Slayers is going to get used to being the strongest, most important, most powerful people around. They're going to feel like they can do anything — like they're entitled to anything."

"I know, I know!" Dawn cut in. "And the Slayer Institution used to have a way around that! But Buffy wouldn't let us refound the Watchers Council. She said if we did, we'd wind up causing a great big intergalactic war in the future that would wipe out half the population of five galaxies!"

Ria gave Dawn a blank stare.

"The Doctor's a time traveler," Dawn explained. "And he and Buffy are really close. Take it from me. When Buffy says stuff like this, she's usually right."

Ria sighed. "Look, I don't have a time machine," she said. "I'm not a prophet. I can't see the future. But if you project the mindset you're establishing now, it's pretty easy to figure out what's going to happen. This Institution could wipe out humanity before we even get to intergalactic travel."

Dawn frowned. "You really think so?"

"It's a militaristic group of highly trained super-people who think they're above the rest of humanity," said Ria. "What do you think will happen?"

Dawn said nothing.

"While Buffy's around, I'm hoping things will be fine," said Ria. She hesitated. "Unless… they kill the Doctor. Which is a distinct possibility."

Dawn visibly started at this.

"What?" asked Ria. She gestured at the school around them. "I told you. They're used to being the strongest, most important, most powerful people around. The Doctor's done something they couldn't manage — he's killed off all the vampires. How do you think they're going to react to that?"

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

"Maybe you should talk to Buffy about this," said Dawn.

"I'd rather talk to _you_ ," said Ria. She gave Dawn a secretive smile. "After all. You're the one who's actually been running this place, behind the scenes. Haven't you?"

Dawn didn't answer.

"Buffy's the nominal head," said Ria. "She inspires the others to do things. You make the things Buffy wants actually happen."

"I…" Dawn swallowed. "I'm trying my best. But no one listens to me."

Ria nodded, slowly. Then gave a large grin. "Tell you what," she said. "I'll accept Buffy's employment offer — with a few conditions. Then I'll work here. And _I'll_ listen to you. How about that?"

Dawn hesitated. "But we're still just…"

"Two people," agreed Ria. "And with Heather, Nadia, Jeanette, and Audrey, that makes six of us. Six ordinary people. I've taken down unbeatable vampires with less than that."

Dawn looked over at Ria. Not sure what to do. But Ria gave her a confident smile, which made Dawn feel… more at ease.

Ria — unlike all the others — didn't look down on Dawn. Didn't patronize her. Didn't act as if she were the little sister, the subordinate she was being pawned off to, Buffy's personal secretary and odd-jobs person. Ria _knew_ what Dawn had been doing. Ria _understood_.

"What conditions?" Dawn checked.

Ria nodded towards Dawn's office. "That's the first thing we should discuss."

* * *

"It's easy," Willow explained, setting up the magical items around her. "If my theory's correct, this whole won't-wake-up thing the Doctor's doing, now, is kind of like Buffy's catatonia — back when she was facing down Glory. I think the TBVs messed with his head so much, he's stuck in some kind of mental feedback loop, and isn't able to get out of it. So, I just have to do that same spell I used with Buffy, get inside the Doctor's head, and convince him he's not a murderer who causes the deaths of everyone around him!"

"Well, let's not promise more than we can achieve," Giles muttered. Then, realizing that everyone except Buffy was giving him evil stares, quickly put in, "I do believe that Willow's spell might do him some good. Just as it did you, Buffy."

Everyone waited for Buffy's reaction, but it didn't come.

"Uh, Earth-to-Buff," said Xander, snapping his fingers in front of her eyes.

Buffy swatted them away. "I'm thinking." She gave a small sigh, then collapsed into a chair. "I guess," she told Willow. "He's always scared about people getting too into his head, because he thinks it'll fry their brains or something, but… you've had the whole world in yours, Will, so… I dunno. Maybe."

"If you're not okay with this, Buffy, we don't have to do it," said Willow. "I just think… it helped you. It could help him."

Buffy shrugged. Then nodded. "Okay," she said. "Do it. Just, when you get in there, don't..." She stopped.

"Don't what?" asked Willow.

Buffy looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. "I've known the Doctor forever," she whispered. "We've done everything together. You guys all know that. But for him…" Buffy's eyes grew empty, sad, fixed on her hands. "It's the third time he's met me. That first time, with Omega and the Watchers Council — he's done that. And the thing on my eighteenth birthday. And… that's it."

Everyone looked at each other, a grim expression on their faces. They all had learned from that time in the Initiative: if the Doctor died now, in his own past, Buffy would forget everything that had happened between them, after that point. Which meant... if the Doctor never woke up from this...

It'd be like Buffy never knew him at all.

"Dawn," Buffy continued. "He can't know about Dawn. Or that thing with Glory or the portal. I remember — if he knows anything about that, anything at all, he'll go back in time and make sure she's never even born. And — no matter what — don't..." Buffy hesitated. "Don't tell him I've died."

"Buffy, I'm not planning on having some big heart-to-heart gossip session," said Willow. "I'm just going to try to convince him not to kill himself."

Buffy said nothing for several long moments. Then, in a quiet voice, "Okay."

* * *

They propped the Doctor up, so that he was sitting upright, on the hospital bed. His eyes were still shut, but Willow had told the others she didn't think that was going to be a problem. Not when the Doctor was a touch telepath.

Willow sat down, beside him, so their eyes were level. Took his hands in her own, and closed her eyes. And then went very, very still, her face settling into a deep, concentrated frown. As she drifted off into the Doctor's mind.

"Is this what happened last time?" Kennedy asked, hovering nearby, ready to swoop in and help if anything happened to Willow.

"Kind of," said Xander. "Without the hell goddesses and knights chasing us on horseback, though, the spell misses some of its oomph."

Willow suddenly jerked in her spot, toppling backwards off the bed, as she let go of the Doctor's hands. Eyes popping open. "Hey!"

She climbed back to her feet, glanced around at the others, then back at the Doctor, an indignant expression on her face.

"I can't believe he did that!" she said. She pointed at him. "He threw me out!"

"I told you he didn't like people in his head," Buffy muttered. She slumped forwards in her seat, her eyes fixed on the ground.

"Will," said Xander, putting a hand on her shoulder and glancing over at Buffy. "Can you try it again?"

"He'd just kick me out, again," Willow whispered, hoping Buffy wouldn't hear. "Buffy's right. He really doesn't want people in his head. And definitely not me."

"He doesn't want to hurt Buffy, either," Xander replied, quietly. "Just... explain. What's happening out here."

Willow sighed. "I'll try."

She took a deep breath, then assumed her previous position on the bed. Taking the Doctor's hands in her own. Closed her eyes. And went still, concentrating.

This time, the trance lasted a lot longer. Kennedy opened her mouth to speak, but Xander shushed her. Whatever Willow was doing, she needed to concentrate.

When she did open her eyes, there was a new, haunted quality to them. Willow let go of his hands, realizing her own hands were trembling.

"O-okay," Willow said, her voice a little shaky. "I — I can see why he didn't want me in his mind, right now."

"Did you figure out what's wrong with him?" asked Xander. "How to fix him?"

Willow blinked, then touched her hand to her forehead, trying to clear away some of the darkness. "Uh... yeah... yeah, I got that." She stood up, and backed away from the Doctor, stumbling a little, and Kennedy helped support her. "This whole… not-healing problem… it's not a mental problem at all. I mean, he's in a… bad place, mentally… but that's not the reason he's like this."

"Then why?" asked Giles.

"I guess he just… used up all his regenerative energy destroying the vampires," said Willow. "Now, he's got none left for himself." She turned to Buffy, putting a hopeful smile on her face. "So all we need to do is find some more, and he'll wake up and everything will be fine."

"Oh, well that's easy," said Xander. "I'll just run down to my local 'alien energy discount store', and pick some up."

"We can use the Scythe," Willow explained.

Everyone looked at everyone else. Then back at Willow.

"Would that work?" asked Kennedy.

"It's a regenerative recycler," said Willow. "It's constantly storing regenerative energy from the Slayers who've died, so it can feed that energy back and use it to awaken the next one. Channeling off just a little extra for him should be no problem."

"That's… well, actually, it's terribly clever of you, Willow," Giles said. "And very likely to work. I'm impressed."

"See? Buffy?" asked Willow, leaning down to Buffy. "It's all going to be okay. You're not going to forget anything about the Doctor, and when he wakes up, you can tell him you're still alive, and go off and have your super-space adventure, like you always wanted."

Buffy's expression didn't change. She just got up, pushed past Willow, and headed out the door. "I'll go get the Scythe."

They all waited until Buffy had left the room, all their eyes trailing after her. The moment Buffy was gone, all hopeful happiness in Willow's expression fell away, and she was left only with a sad, almost-horrified air about her.

"Willow?" Kennedy asked.

Everyone glanced over at Willow. And seemed to realize that whatever had been said or done around Buffy — had all been an act. For Buffy's benefit.

"The reason he's not waking up — is it _actually_ mental?" Xander asked.

Willow cringed. "Completely," she confessed. "Buffy's right. This is the third time he's met her. That means, before he got kidnapped by those TBVs, he'd just lost Rose, just watched every single Slayer die, just watched the Shadow Men butcher the only other member of his race, and just failed to save Buffy from her Cruciamentum test. He's lost everything and everyone, and feels like he's a murderer. That's what his mental landscape was like, _before_ those TBVs started playing mind-games on him."

"Oh, dear," said Giles.

"So… the mind-set the Doctor started out with, before he got kidnapped… was basically Buffy's mindset when she was catatonic," Xander said. "I'm starting to see why going into his mind might not have been a Disneyland vacation."

"It's worse than that," said Willow. "Aside from everything that happened while he was captured — at the end of it all, he lost his temper, and wound up killing off a whole species, all at once. He's really — _really_ — upset about that."

"So… the regenerative energy thing you said, before…" said Kennedy.

"He's got plenty of regenerative energy," Willow confessed. "And it's all ready to zip around his bloodstream and heal him — no gold-light face-change required — but… he's a Time Lord. If he doesn't want to heal himself, he can stop it. And he doesn't want to."

"Then I suppose the Scythe will do nothing," Giles muttered. "Buffy will be terribly disappointed."

Willow held out a hand. "No, no! Everything I said about the Scythe — that's all real. I worked it out! If we can force enough extra regenerative energy into him, he won't be able to hold it all back. He'll have to get better, and then we can use the Scythe to siphon off the extra when we're done."

"Wait, wait," said Xander. "If everything you've just said is true — and Buffy already knew about the Doctor being in a bad mental state — then why did you lie about him to Buffy?"

Willow said nothing for a long moment. Then, very quietly, "I had to."

"Why?" asked Kennedy.

"Because… in the end… _Buffy's_ the real reason he's not waking up," Willow admitted. She glanced over at the unconscious Doctor. "What's happened… it's all Buffy's fault."

Everyone stared at her.

"How do you mean?" Giles asked.

"Razor killed someone the Doctor knew," said Willow. "A granddaughter of a friend. He showed me that, when I was in his head." Willow shuddered at the memory. "And — at that moment — the Doctor decided that vampires were just evil through and through. Like Daleks."

"They are," Kennedy confirmed.

"And he also knew exactly how to make sure he got rid of all the vampires at once," said Willow. "He thought it was right. Humanity's about to go into space, and if he didn't act now, the vampires would spread across not just the world, but the whole universe. An army of evil, terrorizing everyone and everything. He told me — he'd had a chance like this with the Daleks on Skaro, and hadn't taken it. He wasn't making that mistake again."

"And that's all true, too!" Kennedy insisted. "I don't get why he's guilt-tripped over this."

"He's guilty, because Buffy showed up," said Willow. "And she… told him about Spike."

Everyone went quiet.

"The Doctor had seen Angel, but Angel was forced to accept his soul," said Willow. "And the moment he lost it, he went back to his old ways. Spike… _chose_ to get his soul back. Voluntarily." Willow cringed. "And the Doctor really believes that — any of the vampires he killed might have wound up being like Spike. If they'd gotten the chance."

They looked over at the Doctor, grim expressions on their faces.

"But… even after that… he killed off all the vampires anyways," Xander said.

"He wasn't going to — he would have found another way, if he'd had more time, but… the vampires were about to kill Buffy," said Willow. "And the Doctor just kind of... snapped. Lost his temper."

Willow took Kennedy's hand in her own, holding it as if to keep herself upright.

"Don't you get it?" Willow asked those around her. "The Doctor _didn't_ kill off the vampires to save the human race. He killed them off to save _Buffy_."

For a moment, everyone was silent.

"Willow's right," said Xander. "We can't tell Buffy about this. Ever."

From outside, they heard footsteps. Which stopped, just outside the door. Then Dawn's voice, worried, echoed through the hallway nearby, asking, "Buffy?"

A sniffle, a suppressed sob, and then a rush of footsteps running away down the hall.

"Buffy, wait!" Dawn called. "What..?" She paused, then poked her head into the hospital room. "Buffy's crying! What the hell were you guys talking about in here?"

Everyone's faces melted into horror.

"She... was standing outside the whole time," Willow realized. "Listening."

"Attack of the standard overlooked movie clichés," Xander muttered.

Dawn stepped through the door, arms folded. "What the hell is going on?" she demanded. "I thought the whole point of this spell thing was to make Buffy better. Not completely tear her apart!"

Everyone around the room grimaced. And then, reluctantly, they told her the truth.

* * *

In another timeline, Buffy knew, she'd wanted this. Been willing to torture the Doctor for hours, so she could convince him he was a monster. Had killed off an entire town to make him believe it, and still failed.

In this timeline, Buffy had only wanted to give hope. Love. Comfort.

And she'd destroyed him.

Buffy ran back to her office. Trying to stifle the tears that were flowing freely. Trying to ignore the stabbing in her heart, as she realized that — she had done this. All of it. Her fault. She'd made some stupid wish to find the Doctor — even after she'd been warned, over and over again, after her own past had been rewritten as one great big 'for the love of God, do not make stupid wishes, Buffy' warning — she'd still made that one wish.

Now the Doctor was dying — dying before Buffy had grown close to him, before they'd really known each other at all — and every single memory she had of him was about to fade away.

Alone. So, so alone.

And what was there to look forward to, in her own future? Who would she spend her hours hoping to find, now that everything was about to change? Who would give her hope, who would light her darkest hours, who would give her the strength to go on, when she had none?

Buffy didn't even notice, as she ran right into Jack.

"Woah, there," said Jack, giving her a friendly smile, and placing a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Buffy looked up at him. Jack. Handsome, wrong, horribly present and painful Jack. She could feel him — especially this close — searing across her Slayer senses. He grated at her, dug into her, scorched the areas where their flesh touched. This close, in this mindset, every time he touched her, Buffy could feel the grating agony of eternity writhing through her — tearing her apart, just as that portal had, the day she'd jumped.

She grabbed Jack by his military grate coat, pulled him down to her, and kissed him.

Feeling that horrible wrongness creeping and crawling across her, through her. Feeling the burning and bursting of the vortex tearing at her, as she pulled him in closer, as she continued. And every time they stopped a moment, to catch their breath, then started in again, it just made the pain worse, overwhelming her senses, working its way deep down inside of her soul. She could feel his wrongness destroying her, as she pulled him into her office and they began to shed clothing - but it was what she deserved, better than she deserved, this was her punishment, and she had to take it.

Buffy had done what Elizabeth had only ever dreamed of.

She'd killed the Doctor.

And now, she could suffer for it.

* * *

"I think I should leave," said Jack, dressing.

Buffy didn't answer, just lay on the floor of her office, not looking at Jack.

"My team in Cardiff's got to be wondering where I've gone," said Jack. "Better give them back their fearless leader."

Buffy said nothing for a long time. She knew what Jack wasn't telling her. The real reason he wasn't sticking around. What she'd just done.

"I'm sorry," she said, at last.

Silence.

Then, "I didn't think I was that bad."

"You weren't..." Buffy stopped herself, and bit her tongue.

Jack glanced over at her. "You wanna tell me why you consider being close to me to be a punishment?"

Buffy didn't answer.

"I like you a lot, Buffy," said Jack. "I couldn't say no to you this time. I probably won't be able to say no next time."

Buffy closed her eyes, but remained silent.

"Probably better if I just go," said Jack, fully dressed, swinging on his military greatcoat. "Get back to the UK. Check in on Rose and the others."

Buffy said nothing.

Jack walked towards the door, but stopped. Glanced back. "Buffy," he checked. "Are you...?"

"Leave," she demanded. "Now."

He nodded. Then gave her his most charming grin. "Look me up, sometime," he said.

Buffy heard him leaving. Heard the sound of a real friend — one who might understand exactly how she felt, might even be able to help her — walking out of her office. Out of her Slayer Institution. And out of her life.

Her fault. Again. Always, always, her own fault.

* * *

Xander hesitated, then knocked on the door of Buffy's office.

Nothing.

He glanced back at the others. Who urged him forwards. He cleared his throat, then tried knocking again. "Buff?" he called.

A click from the other side of the door, as it unlocked and swung open, to reveal a tired, disheveled-looking Buffy. Her hair messed up. Her hand still on the doorknob. Her eyes still red from crying.

Their depths still dull and hopeless.

"Are you okay?" asked Dawn.

Buffy didn't even bother to answer that question. Everyone already knew.

"Look, Buffy," said Willow. "About... what I said. I didn't mean—"

"You were right," Buffy cut in. "It's all my fault."

"You were just trying to help," said Willow. "There was no way you could have known—"

"Why not?" asked Buffy, her voice cracking a little on the words. "Everyone warned me. Mr. No-Name-All-Powerful-Entity warned me. You warned me. Sineya warned me. Riley warned me. Even Elizabeth showed up here, when I was dead, to make sure I knew exactly what would happen. I should have known what was going on, right from the start. I should have worked it all out. But I made a stupid wish, and everything…" A hint of the actual pain she felt inside burst through onto her face, but she quickly stuffed it behind a blank mask. And shrugged. "It's my fault. All of it."

"Oh, would you just put a lid on it, already?" Kennedy shouted.

Willow tried to tug Kennedy away, but she yanked her hand free from Willow, and marched right up to Buffy.

"You've been half-killing yourself, over the last few months, doing the impossible!" Kennedy snapped. "You make one little mistake — that you couldn't possibly have known about — and now you're falling apart?!" She pointed down the hallway, in the general direction of the medical center. "That guy was being tortured. Raped! Daily! You rescued him from that."

Buffy said nothing, but every ounce of self-blame shone through in her eyes.

"And yeah, so he absorbed radiation because you happened to re-enter the room before he could diffuse the bomb," said Kennedy. "And maybe your little pep-talk about Spike and hope and stuff backfired. But I think everyone here is missing one really — really — important thing." She stepped forwards. "The vampires _deserved_ to be wiped out. Completely."

"Kennedy," Xander warned, glancing over at Buffy, worriedly.

"No, someone has to say it!" insisted Kennedy. "Vampires are evil. Completely and utterly evil. And if they'd gotten out into space, then, yeah, they _would_ have swarmed all over the universe as an unstoppable army of pure evil. The Doctor knew that! He knew what he had to do. And he was still about to back out, and let the vampires survive. You, Buffy — you pushed him into getting rid of them. And that was _good_!" She put her hands on her hips. "You've done what every Slayer's wanted to do since the Shadow Men first arrived. So stop moping around and celebrate!"

Buffy met Kennedy's eyes, very calmly, and steadily. A completely blank expression on her face. Then, in a very low voice, she said, "Dawn. How many humans died due to vampires in the last five months?"

Dawn hesitated. Then admitted, "380,000."

No one said anything. Silence ringing through the halls around them.

"I don't celebrate death," Buffy told Kennedy. "Ours or the vampires'. Right or wrong, necessary or unnecessary, people died. Many people. And I was the one that made them have to." She glanced over at Dawn. A hint of the love she felt coming through. "I killed myself for you. And if I was given the chance, I'd do it again. Every single time. But I jumped into that portal. And actions have consequences."

Dawn's face went pale.

"I linked myself with Elizabeth," said Buffy. "In that instant. 380,000. Almost the same number. What happened here had to happen. Because of me."

"Buffy, I promise," said Willow, "I'm going to get the Doctor back for you. I just have to take the Scythe, and do some spell to—"

Buffy shot Willow a glare that plainly said that she didn't believe her. That Buffy was sure Willow was lying, just the same way she'd lied, back in the medical center.

"I think what Willow's trying to say," put in Giles, "is that while we're worried about the Doctor, we're also terribly concerned about you."

"I don't get why," said Buffy. "I've got it easy. Pretty soon, the probabilities will shift, and I'll forget everything that the Doctor and I have ever done. I won't remember why I'm feeling so sad, right now." She dabbed at her eye. "Maybe I'll even be happy."

"Buffy..." said Xander.

"I brought this on myself," Buffy told them. "I got greedy. I didn't have enough time with him, I wished I could get more. See him again. And because of that..." Her voice wavered, but she composed herself. "...I'll never have had any time with him at all."

"Buffy, I'm not lying to you," Willow said. "I can fix him. I know the Scythe will work."

Buffy glanced over at her. A blank expression on her face. Then turned, and walked back to her desk. "Do whatever you want," she muttered. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Buff..." Xander tried, venturing into the room.

Buffy snapped her head up to him. "Nothing matters anymore!" she shouted. "Nothing! You get that? Even if the Doctor _does_ wake up, what then? Spike didn't even want me to know he was still alive, and Spike's seen me through way worse moments than the Doctor ever has! I've driven the Doctor to commit genocide. You think he'll ever be able to face me again ?"

No one said anything.

"I'm just here to save the world," Buffy insisted, turning back to her desk and slamming a few papers on it. "That's all. Just... run this place, so I can save the world."

It was all she had left.

* * *

"And those are my conditions," said Ria, placing the petition in front of Buffy. Behind her stood her fellow petition writers — Heather, Nadia, Jeanette, and Audrey — all waiting with her, to back her up. Their own names on the petition, beside Ria's. "I've talked them all over with Dawn, and we decided that most of the reforms can wait until a more opportune moment. We've drawn up a timetable, which I've attached to the back of that petition."

Buffy flipped the petition over, and — sure enough — there was a timetable for the different reforms Ria had outlined. Obviously with a lot of input from Dawn.

(When had Buffy's little sister grown up?)

"But I think the most important thing, at the moment, is the amendment," said Ria. "As outlined in our petition."

Buffy looked the petition over. Oh. She sighed, then placed it down on the desk in front of her.

"I can't put this into the Slayer Constitution," she said. "I'm sorry."

Everyone in the room, for a moment, was speechless. Shocked. Nadia's mouth actually fell open.

"But… but you agree with it!" said Jeanette. "You know the Doctor! You don't want him to—"

"It's not about what I want," said Buffy. "It's about what I have to do. I'm sorry — really! But I can't put this in."

Ria scrutinized Buffy, carefully. "Buffy," she said, at last. "I don't know if you're aware what your Institution is turning into, but… it's not something good. Changes need to be made, and fast. This amendment wouldn't just ensure the Doctor's safety — it'd be a symbol to the Slayers you train. It would show that one person — an alien, and a powerful one at that — may still be considered a friend and ally to the Slayer Institution, so long as he proves himself."

"Besides, I thought you liked the Doctor," Heather piped in.

"It's not that," said Buffy. She glanced over the petition again. At the proposed amendment, stating that the Doctor was to be treated with the greatest admiration and respect, due to his actions, and that he should be given the liberty and protection he rightly deserved. "Look, I know this is going to sound weird, and there's no easy way to explain it, but... I know the future. Your amendment is going to wind up being part of the Slayer Constitution, eventually. I promise. The first amendment. But _I_ can't be the one to put it in."

"That's ridiculous," said Nadia.

"No, really, it's true," said Buffy. "Only Hiskaloph can put this in. Call it... a premonition or something."

All the girls just stared at Buffy like she was insane.

"So?" asked Audrey.

Buffy had known this wasn't going to work. "The Doctor's an alien," Buffy explained, "but he's also a time traveler."

"We know," said Jeanette.

"And I've traveled through time with him; I've seen the future," Buffy insisted. She held up the proposal. "This doesn't get added to the Slayer Constitution until Hiskaloph shows up. I can't change that."

"All right; I'll accept that," said Ria, nodding slowly, taking it all in. Then shrugged. "So… what's the problem?"

"Well, Hiskaloph isn't..." Buffy trailed off, as she noticed the signatures on the petition. And froze, as she read them more carefully.

She looked from Ria to the petition, then back to Ria. Her breath coming faster. As she noticed the first signature, at the bottom. "You… your name," she whispered, to Ria. "It's..."

"Ria Maria Hiskaloph," Ria agreed. "Yes."

Hiskaloph.

Ria Hiskaloph.

Buffy stared at the petition, all the color draining from her face. She checked the date. January 11, 2005. Buffy's birthday. She should have known something like this would happen, she should have…

What was there left for her? Rose was about to leave on her universal time-travel tour, the Doctor was about to fade out of Buffy's life forever, Dawn had grown up, Spike wanted nothing to do with her, the others were perfectly fine lying to her for no better reason than to spare her feelings, she'd pushed Jack away, Sam was on permanent Riley-keep-away duty, and now...

_When Hiskaloph arrives, you'll know your time is up._

Ria's determined expression melted into confusion and concern, as she noticed the way that Buffy had reacted to her name. "Buffy," she said, in a gentler voice. "Are you all right?"

Buffy put down the petition. "Fine," she said, straightening and walking around the desk. "Completely fine." She walked to the door, past Ria and the others. "Just... give me a minute."

"Are you sure...?" Ria began.

But Buffy was down the hall before she finished. Then down another hall. And another. And another. And, with one final push, out the front door.

Where Buffy left the Slayer Institution. Forever.

* * *

Dawn slammed the phone down. "Nothing. No one's seen Buffy anywhere."

"She hasn't done the running-away-thing since high school," said Willow. "She must be really upset."

"Yeah!" said Dawn. "You don't think she'd be _happy_ to overhear that the Doctor's going to die, she's going to forget him, and it's _all her fault_?"

"Doesn't Buffy have a cell phone?" Heather cut in, before a fight could break out. "Even if she's not picking up our calls, we could use it to track where she is."

"You mean the cell phone Buffy smashed up when she found out that Spike had been giving her the silent treatment for the last year and a half?" said Xander.

Heather grimaced.

Ria, standing a short ways away, shook her head. "I don't understand," she said. "Dawn and I talked this over at length. We both agreed — this amendment would be a shoe-in. It wouldn't just make Buffy feel better — it would pave the way for the other reforms."

"It should have been a shoe-in," Dawn insisted. "But I guess Buffy's even more freaked than I thought. I've got no idea what's going through her head right now."

"What did she say, before she ran off?" Giles inquired.

"She didn't really say anything," said Nadia. "The moment she found out that Ria's last name was 'Hiskaloph', she just kind of went pale. And left."

Everyone looked blankly at everyone else. The name, aside from being Ria's, held no significance for them, either.

"We've got to find Buffy," said Willow. "All Buffy's-personal-sanity-related issues aside, this Institution needs her. Faith's subbing in, for now, but you know what it's like when Buffy isn't around."

Ria glanced around the room. "No," she said. "I don't. What's it like?"

"Think Somalia, but with less governmental control," said Xander.

Ria grimaced. "I see."

"And with the balance between good and evil in such a state of flux, at the moment," said Giles, "Buffy's absence might prove catastrophic. The past five months have dwindled the resources of every world-defending organization out there, and with the drastic increase in hostile alien attacks, the Slayer Institution might well prove the only thing keeping us safe from the forces of darkness."

"The… extra-terrestrial forces of darkness," Xander clarified.

"Yeah, there's tons of stuff coming in all the time," said Dawn, shuffling through papers. "Stuff that Buffy would usually be jumping at. I mean," holding up one paper, "look at this one! Rumors of moving shop-window-dummies at Heinrich's, in London. Where Rose works. That's something Buffy would usually be all over."

"There are already organizations defending London," said Ria. "If we've gotten the report, so have they. What we have to do, now, is pool our resources. Delegate every organization to the task they're best at. Shop window dummies are plastic — and both Torchwood and UNIT are way better equipped to deal with plastic than we are. We have the better hand-to-hand combat skills, so let's focus our attention on enemies we can defeat, using that."

"It's a good theory," said Kennedy. "But it's never going to happen without Buffy around."

"Nothing ever happens without Buffy around," Willow confirmed.

Ria looked back at Heather, Jeanette, and Nadia. All of them with the same incredulous looks on their faces. Then they turned to the people who'd been part of the Slayer Institution from the very beginning.

"You really have no idea, do you?" asked Ria.

Everyone looked at everyone else. Then back at Ria.

"We don't need Buffy to be here," said Ria. "We've got something far more powerful than Buffy, already."

Still, blank faces.

"We have Buffy's legacy," said Ria.

* * *

"You killed us all," sang the voice of Romana. "All your friends. All your family. Everyone."

A struggle in the mind surrounding her, an instinctive push to get her out of there, eject her from his mind. But the First Evil, wearing the form of Romana, remained — so very easily.

"Still fighting back," the First tsked. "It's always the same with you. You're the fighter who just can't stop himself. Just like Donna told you, on Christmas. Eventually, you'll always wind up losing your temper — and that's when everyone dies."

The sound of a throat clearing, and the First turned, to find the image of Rose Tyler standing a short ways away, here in the Doctor's mind. Around them, the Doctor recognized the image of Rose, responded to it, was strengthened by it. The mind seemed to hum and reach out, longingly, towards the image.

"Oh, that's just cheating," the First complained, at the image. "You knew showing up as Rose would give him an automatic gut reaction. You're manipulating his emotions to get your own way!"

The image of Rose said nothing, but stepped forwards, her tiny body radiating a power, strength, and hope that echoed through the Doctor's mind. As she approached the First, she raised up a sonic screwdriver, and activated it.

The First felt itself yanked out of the Doctor's mind, tumbling back into the real world in its non-corporeal, Romana-impersonating existence.

Where the First discovered it was still staring into the furious eyes of the entity that had appeared in the shape of Rose Tyler. And the entity was still holding the clever inter-dimensional resonation device that it had disguised in the shape of a sonic screwdriver.

"That's a neat trick," the First said, pointing at the sonic. "Turning our own energies against us. Pity you can only use that kind of tool in minute quantities." It gave a theatrical pout. "Otherwise, you might actually be able to _do_ something against us."

The eyes grew that much angrier. "You," the image of Rose bit through her teeth, "stay away from my friends."

The First gave an amused grin. "Aw, I love it when you make threats," it remarked. "It's so cute."

The image of Rose began to shake with suppressed anger. "You have perverted everything you've touched," she said. "Every corner of creation. You and your war and your death and destruction. I've been through history countless times, watching lives destroyed, empires falling to dust, famine and darkness and devastation."

The First scoffed. "That's _our_ fault, now?" it asked. It pointed at the image of Rose. "Technically speaking, you're the one making this all happen. Not us."

"I've devoted my life to containing the effects of your actions," said the image of Rose. "But you _like_ the wars and devastation — you like seeing that you have an impact on the world. You wanted to punish me for interfering. Punish me… with this!" She pointed at the unconscious Doctor. "You tortured the people I care about, destroyed them, while I — confined to the temporal laws of this physical universe — could do nothing to stop it!"

"But it was so much fun to watch you try," countered the First.

"I'm sick and tired of you and your games," snapped the image of Rose. "This ends here."

The First laughed. "You honestly believe you can do anything against us?" it replied. "You've tried that already, and failed. How long did they lock you away, for trying that, last time? Oh, yeah. Three million years. Three million years, locked away in a prison that was basically a living hell."

The image of Rose said nothing, her eyes glaring.

"The temporal loophole is over," said the First. "The contract is back in effect. You know what that means."

"That contract has nothing to do with you."

"It means," the First continued, "that, right now, at this moment in time and space, I can do whatever I want, and no one can stop me." It leaned in closer. "And… you know what? I'm going to make sure your Doctor never wakes up. I'm going to make him drown himself in a pool of his own self-hatred, until he can't stand to go on any longer. He'll die in torment and despair, feeling hopeless and afraid — and all because of _you_. How do you like that?"

The image of Rose pointed the sonic screwdriver, threateningly, at the First.

The First sighed, and with the flick of its wrist, melted the sonic into thin air.

"Useless," commented the First. It turned back to the Doctor — its prey — still lying unconscious on the bed. "You might as well face it. I'm the bully who breaks all your toys. I'm going to make sure the Doctor is dead, and then I'm going after Buffy. Oh, and Rose — the valiant child. I'm thinking of chucking her into the void, the Howling — that'd be nice, wouldn't it?" The First laughed. "All your precious mortals are going to die, and there's absolutely nothing sweet-little-harmless you can do to stop it."

For a few moments, silence. Then, in a quiet but threatening voice, "Are you sure of that?"

The First froze.

"The humans have all been warning you," said the image of Rose. "You haven't been listening. Everything's changed. Twilight has been erased, and you know what that means. Death is coming."

The First spun around, all traces of humor gone. "Death is…" It stared at the other entity, its face turning pale. "So… you're admitting it!"

"I admit nothing," said the image of Rose. "But it's a possibility. A probability. And considering how good I am with probabilities — are you really willing to take the chance?"

The First took a step backwards, a genuinely startled and almost horrified look spreading across its face. "You've done it," it breathed. Then shook its head. "I can't believe — you've actually done it! You, with all your talk of love and mercy and compassion — you've become the Bringer of Death. The _real_ Bringer of Death."

The image of Rose said nothing.

"It has to be a lie!" the First insisted. "A bluff! Even with everything you've done against us, so far, you'd never actually do _that_. You'd never risk destroying the entire universe, just to get back at us. That's not your style." The First gave a clumsy laugh. "You'd have to be even more insane than I am."

"I am," the image of Rose agreed. "A lot more. And a lot angrier." Her eyes narrowed. "Now leave my friends alone."

Silence.

Then the First, with one bitter look back at the Doctor, stepped away, and removed its malicious influence from his mind. It turned to the image of Rose.

"This isn't over," the First warned. "I've already put enough events into motion to make sure the Doctor's dead. And after he goes, time will be rewritten, your Slayer will be good as dead, and my power will grow."

The First stepped forwards, power radiating from its body.

"I will gain corporeal form," it warned, "and then I will spread to encompass every corner of this universe. And I will take that power and crush you like an ant." It got right into the other entity's face. "Are you prepared to face my wrath for all eternity?"

The image of Rose met the First's eyes, steadily. "Yes," she said. "And a thousand times worse. To protect the people I love."

The First groaned. "The soul of humanity," it muttered, disgusted. "I don't know how you can stand it." And faded into the air, and out of this plane of existence.

The image of Rose looked at the spot where the First had once been, her self-confidence and anger draining away, replaced by a terrible sorrow. "A thousand times worse," she repeated, resignation in her voice. She glanced off into the distance — through the window, at the moon. The merest hint of an unshed tear in her eye.

"Forgive me," she prayed — although to whom was not clear. "Please. Please. Forgive me."

The air remained silent.

The entity, still in the shape of Rose, turned back towards the Doctor, her eyes fixed on his limp body. She pushed at his mind, but knew that she could never give enough hope to bring him back. Not by herself.

"I tried to stop all of this," she told the unconscious figure. "I tried to help you. I even thought about telling them..." She trailed off, her entire body seeped in sorrow and despair. "But in the end, I knew what that would mean. And I couldn't let her die."

Then the image of Rose turned, her eyes brushing across the moon. "The one sacrifice," she muttered, "I can never make." And, with a single step forwards, she faded out of the world.

* * *

Willow came into Buffy's old office — which was being taken over, temporarily, by Ria, Dawn, and the others — dragging the Scythe behind her.

"I hope your efforts are coming along better than mine," she said, shoving the Scythe on Buffy's desk. "Because mine are coming along terribly."

"The short answer is yes," said Ria, before she ducked her head back down, and continued to discuss things with the others gathered nearby.

Xander came over to Willow, giving her a sympathetic shrug.

Willow examined the way that Ria was handling the situation. So reminiscent of how Buffy had handled their problems, back before she'd been forced back from the dead. Taking in input, letting it percolate, then strategizing and delegating to whomever had the most strengths.

"She's in her element," said Willow. She glanced over at Xander. "Is she listening to any of us old-timers, or just Dawn?"

"Don't want to say anything about how she'll react to you," said Xander. "But she listens to _me_." He stood up straight and proud. "I'm her non-Slayer in-the-field expert. Beat that!"

Willow gave a small, but tired, laugh. Her eyes on Ria. "I don't like what she's saying about Buffy," she admitted. "It feels… weird. Like we're martyrizing her while she's still alive."

"We're not doing anything that hasn't already been done through word-of-mouth," Jeanette said, breaking away from the group to come over and talk to Willow and Xander. "According to Dawn, Buffy's basically never here, anyways. Most of the Slayers know about her through stories and myths and legends. We're just reinforcing those."

"You're making Buffy sound perfect," said Willow. "What happens when she shows up, again, and isn't perfect?"

"Uh, Will?" asked Xander. "If we don't get these girls on their feet, the world's going to end way before Buffy shows up, again."

"Think about it this way," said Jeanette. "They follow Buffy's orders. Ria's just trying to get them to follow Buffy's orders in her absence. Do what Buffy would do. Be what she'd want you to be."

"See?" said Willow. "That sounds culty!" She turned to Xander. "Doesn't that sound culty?"

"Well, the way I see it, with no vampires around — we're either a dysfunctional crazy-UFO-spotter convention," said Xander, "or a world-saving Buffy cult. Personally? I'm going with the cult." He raised up a mini flag, with the letters 'BUFFY' inscribed in sharpie on the surface. "Already got my novelty Wall-Sized-Posters-Of-Buffy, too."

Willow shook her head.

"What went wrong with the Scythe?" Jeanette asked.

"Huh? Oh," said Willow, her eyes drifting over to it. "When we activated the Potential Slayers, I guess we locked it into the Slayer Line. The Doctor's not a Slayer, so it doesn't recognize him. Hence… no Scythe-related energy for the Doctor."

From the middle of the group around Buffy's desk, Ria stood up. "That should work," she announced. She waved over the other group. "Xander, Willow, Jeanette? Gather up. Here's the finished plan to get rid of the latest round of alien invasions."

Willow gave a sigh, but did as she was told.

"Give her a chance," Jeanette urged Willow. "I know she sounds full of it. But take it from me. Ria knows how to get the best out of people."

"If you say so," muttered Willow.

But as Ria outlined the plan to them all — complete with the problems they might encounter, contingencies, how to get the Slayers motivated, who'd command and who'd follow — Willow thought… maybe… just maybe… Ria was onto something.

* * *

"See?" said Joanna Harris, as they arrived at the Slayer Institution. "I told you. As long as Angel isn't with us, we've got no problem getting to Cleveland. Or the Slayer Institution."

Spike snickered, and muttered something not-very-nice-sounding about Angel under his breath.

His amusement lasted up until the moment he saw the sign, out front: "Private Property, Vampires Not Welcome."

No entrance for Spike, then.

"Someone should be down to invite you in, though, right?" asked Joanna. "I mean, we did phone ahead."

" _Angel_ did," Spike retorted.

And, since they had both witnessed, over and over again, how — since the vampire-destroying moment — the world seemed to rebel against the chance that Buffy and Angel might meet, share a few words, or even just remind one another that the other existed, they knew the phone call probably hadn't gotten through.

Joanna sighed, and looked at the Slayer Institution, lying still and closed-looking beneath the moon. Her eyes searched the windows along the top, trying to guess which one might hold her dying friend. But there was no way to tell, from down here.

"It's only six in the bloody evening," Spike complained. "You'd think there'd be someone around."

"I guess we should just find a hotel," said Joanna. "I'll contact them in the morning, and make sure there's someone here tomorrow night to let…"

The lights in the front lobby switched on, as a tired-looking Dawn stumbled through, zipping up her winter coat and — tucking a bag brimming with weapons beneath her left arm — slipping on a pair of heavy wool gloves. She turned to the front door, and jumped when she noticed who was standing in front of it.

Joanna and Spike both waved.

Dawn waved back.

Then, realizing that neither was coming in, she rushed to the door, unlocked it, and opened it up, asking them to, "Come in."

"From the way this place looks, outside, you'd think we came in at midnight," said Joanna, as she and Spike stepped inside. "Where is everyone?"

"Fighting against aliens," said Dawn. "I was about to go… join…" she interrupted herself with an escaped yawn, then blushed. And muttered a quick apology under her breath. "I've barely slept since Buffy ran away."

"Ran away?" asked Spike. "Thought she outgrew that sort of thing."

"I guess not," said Dawn. She rested the weapons bag on the ground, and dropped into a chair. "I've been staying here really late, trying to find her. But… there's nothing." She gave a bitter laugh. "I don't even know where to look."

Joanna and Spike looked at one another. Grimaced. Then turned back to Dawn.

"How's the Doctor?" asked Joanna.

"Still not healing," Dawn confessed. "He's in the post-Rose part of his tenth regeneration, which means he was kind of suicidal to begin with. The vampires didn't help. And the genocide kind of pushed him over the edge."

Joanna and Spike said nothing for a long moment.

"I thought…" Joanna ventured, then hesitated. "I thought… because of the bloodfasting… maybe, if it was a mental problem, I could…"

"Willow tried that, already," said Dawn. "She went into his head. Tried to talk him 'round. But I guess, since none of us have ever purposely destroyed our home planets before, we can't really relate."

Joanna crossed her arms. "Then there has to be another way," she insisted. "Some way to force him to heal himself."

"Yeah," said Dawn. "Willow said if we force-fed him regenerative energy, he'd have to heal. But we tried the Scythe, and it wouldn't work. It's been locked onto the Slayer Line."

Joanna and Spike looked at one another. Then Spike brought out a chain, upon which hung a large, clear gemstone, that gleamed a little beneath the florescent lights of the Institution.

"This help?" he asked.

Dawn's eyes widened, as she picked it up. She could almost feel the energy it contained, on the edges of her senses, tingling against her fingers.

She knew, both from the Final Battle of the Hellmouth, and from what had happened when the vampires were wiped out a short time ago, that this Amulet contained regenerative energy. Regenerative energy from the Doctor's own blood. And that, in sunlight, if this Amulet were activated…

"It could work," said Dawn. She got to her feet, a little wobbly from lack of sleep, but the adrenaline boost seemed to be helping with that. "I mean, if we could make sure that he only got a little sunlight, so it doesn't shoot off in all directions, but… it could work!"

"Long as I don't have to wear it," said Spike. He scowled. "Bloody amulets."

Dawn began rushing back to her office, her feet barely touching the floor. She knew that _she_ couldn't enter the Doctor's hospital room — he hadn't met her, yet, and if he woke up, he'd probably wind up trying to kill her — but she could give it to Ria and Willow and the others, and they could make it work…

She grabbed a piece of paper off her desk, and began scribbling on it, furiously. A message to Ria.

"Babylonian," said Spike, as he entered Dawn's office.

Dawn glanced up, and noticed that Spike was analyzing the Cuneiform message from Ace, which was propped up against a chair near the door to Dawn's office.

Spike chuckled. "Bet Giles is having a field day with this."

Joanna, coming up behind him, squinted at the tablet. "Why's there English at the bottom?"

"There isn't…" Dawn started, but stopped. As she looked over. And realized that… there were English letters carved at the bottom. No, not just at the bottom. The English letters appeared to have been carved into the rock instead of Ace's post-script.

That was weird.

Dawn reached for the photographs they'd taken before moving the stone from its original location, but… the English writing was on those, too. As if it had always been there.

The writing said, in English:

"P.S. Friend of yours stopped by. Wanted me to tell you: Buffy is at 41.3144° N, 81.8358° W. Super 8 off Rt 71."

Dawn stared at it. Then rushed over to the stone, just to make sure it said the same thing.

"I don't… it doesn't… I mean it shouldn't…" Dawn tried to find words, but couldn't manage it.

Joanna rolled her eyes. "Time travelers can be such smart-asses," she complained.

* * *

"It certainly didn't," Giles agreed. "I would recall if such a thing had been inscribed, before."

It was morning. Following a successful night of alien repelling, they'd all reconvened in Dawn's office, staring at the new inscription on the stone. Trying to make sense of it.

"Well, maybe it's Buffy's all-powerful Protect-The-Doctor entity," Xander guessed. "She said he liked to screw around with history."

Willow walked through the door, followed by Nadia and Kennedy. She held the Amulet in her hand, but the look on her face did not inspire confidence.

"No luck?" asked Ria.

Willow shook her head, putting the Amulet down on the top of Dawn's desk. "No reaction. Even when we flooded the room with sunlight, the Amulet wouldn't activate."

"Thought there was a prophecy about that," Faith put in. She nodded at the Amulet. "Like, it'd only work for one person."

Spike — perhaps luckily for him — had retired somewhere sunlight-less. And so didn't receive the pointed stares that he might have, had he been in the room.

Dawn picked up her car keys. One problem at a time. "I'm going off to look for Buffy."

"I'll come with you," said Xander.

Willow stepped forward to volunteer as well, but Ria shook her head. "Willow," she said. "I need you, here."

Willow hesitated, but then sighed, and went over to Ria.

"Don't worry — Dawn and Xander can take care of themselves," Ria said. She turned to the rest of the people in the room, as Dawn and Xander slipped out the door. "Okay. Prophecy. What prophecy, where did it come from, how reliable are our sources on it, and — probably most importantly —" looking over at Willow, "are there any ways we can get around it?"

Dawn and Xander knocked on the door to the hotel room where — according to the front desk clerk — Buffy was staying.

No answer.

They looked at one another, then knocked again. Calling, "Buffy?"

The soft sound of movement inside. But no answer at the door.

Dawn raised up her hand to knock a third time, but Xander stopped her. He slipped a credit card out of his pocket, and waved it at her.

"I saw this in a movie," he explained, slipping the credit card into the crack between the door and its frame. Then put all his weight down, and shoved at the door. "And if you can't…" SHOVE, "trust Hollywood…" SHOVE, "who can you…?"

The door flew open, revealing a small, dark hotel room, every light turned off and every curtain drawn. And, in the center of the bed, knees drawn up to her chest, was Buffy.

She didn't seem to notice that Dawn and Xander had entered.

Dawn looked at Xander. He looked back at her. Then they both crept forward, towards Buffy.

"Buff?" Xander asked, tentatively.

Buffy didn't seem to have heard him. Just kept staring at the floor on the far side of the room.

"Buffy," said Dawn, reaching out to her. "We were so worried…"

Buffy caught Dawn's arm, and looked over at her. Eyes moist, pleading.

"Please," she said, and her voice shook with every word. "Please. Wake me up."

Dawn stared down at her sister, not really sure what to say.

"I can't stand it," said Buffy. "I'm losing more and more memories. Like he was never there, in my past. History is changing, like you warned me, and my nightmares…" She stopped. Then turned to Dawn, and grabbed at both her hands. "Please, Dawn. Please. I have to wake up!"

Xander and Dawn exchanged glances.

"Buffy," said Dawn, "you're not dreaming."

Buffy didn't seem to understand.

"I'm here," Dawn said. Gripping Buffy's hands a little tighter. "Xander's here. We're both real. We've come to help."

"Xander…" Buffy frowned. Then shook her head. "No, there's no Xander, here. He's not part of the dream."

Xander cleared his throat, and tried to step into Buffy's line of vision, but Buffy didn't seem to hear or see him.

"This is all just… the nightmare," Buffy insisted. "Again. The same nightmare, every night. The nightmare where I… imprison… and kill… the Doctor." Her voice went very low, shaking a little with every syllable. "If I wake up, it'll all go away. The Doctor will be all right, again."

"Buffy," said Dawn, looking deep into her sister's eyes, "listen to me. You didn't kill the Doctor. You rescued him. I know what Willow said hurt you, but… you were trying to do the right thing! You were trying to give him hope."

Buffy said nothing.

"No one's angry at you for what you did," said Dawn. "You've got a good heart. And we're going to wake up the Doctor, and get all of your memories back. Promise. I mean, we got help from your Doctor-Protecting Super-Entity friend. He told us where to find you!"

"He showed me," said Buffy. "Warned me. Told me, again and again and again. I didn't listen. I became…" She shuddered. "…like other-me."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Yeah, speaking as someone who met Elizabeth — and was smacked in the face by her — you're not other-you. You're way less psychotic."

"380,000," said Buffy, in a very soft voice. "The same number, with an extra zero on the end. All dead because of me."

"No, they're dead because the vampires killed them," said Dawn. "Buffy, snap out of it! You're not dreaming, you're not responsible for what happened, and you didn't kill the Doctor!"

"One wrong decision, at just the wrong time, and all of history could…" She dropped Dawn's hands, her eyes straying back to the carpet on the far side of the room. "What have I done?"

"You showed up at exactly the right time, to make sure you could give the Doctor the push he needed to save the world," Dawn supplied. "Like it or not, Kennedy's right. Vampires are evil, and he did us a favor, wiping them out. You just need to convince him of that, so he can wake up! So, why don't you come back to the Slayer Institution, and…?"

"Can't," Buffy cut in. "Hiskaloph's arrived." She laughed, and threw up her hands. "And that means… I'm free. Finally. Free!" Her smile dropped, her hands sagging, and she shivered. "Never thought it'd feel so empty."

"Ria's just subbing for you," said Dawn. "She's not trying to steal the Slayer Institution from you or anything. You can't…"

"Go away," Buffy commanded Dawn. She lay down on the bed, and shut her eyes. "I just… can't…. Just go away. Now."

"Buffy—"

"I said GO!" Buffy shouted.

Dawn and Xander looked at each other, then retreated out of the room. Closing the door almost all the way, but leaving it open a crack.

"Now what?" asked Dawn.

Xander flipped out his cell phone. "Either we drug her, tie her up, and hall her back to the Slayer Institution ourselves," he said, "or we call for backup."

* * *

Spike entered Buffy's office the moment the sun had set, outside. Trying to avoid the myriad of people rushing into and out of it, with important announcements on their lips and either papers or weapons in their hands.

"No Buffy," Spike noted, with a quick look around.

"We've been trying everything," said Willow. "She won't snap out of whatever she's gotten herself into. She seems pretty sure this whole thing is just a nightmare, and she can wake up and make everything all better."

"And there's no luck on the Amulet front," said Joanna. "We've tried sunlight, magic, science. We even tried hitting it with a rock. But it won't activate."

"It has to be Spike for it to activate," said Kennedy. "Right? That's what happened last time."

"But that's what doesn't make sense," said Ria, stepping over to them. She gave a small sigh, inspecting Spike carefully. "If Willow's to be believed, the Doctor had no idea that Spike was a good guy when he showed up in LA, five months ago."

Joanna's eyes widened, as she realized where Ria was going with this. "Which means he'd never have given that Amulet to Angel, if he'd known Spike could activate it!" she chimed in. "Because he'd never risk that kind of power falling into the wrong hands."

"I've heard the prophecy," Ria told Spike. "I've also heard it's vague. Hard to translate. I'm guessing it wasn't referring to you, specifically, just to someone with a certain subset of criteria. You happen to match."

"Wish that Ace-girl was still around," said Faith. "She said she'd helped make it."

Ria turned on Faith. "What?"

"She didn't really go into details," Willow put in. "She just said that she'd helped someone named 'Romana' create it for… a friend of theirs. And she thought it had been lost."

"Lovely as this chatter is, it's not helping us get Buffy back, is it?" asked Spike. "Truth of the matter is, Buffy's in trouble. I gotta find her. Now, where is she?"

Ria examined him, again. "You think you could snap her out of this?"

"Course," said Spike. "Easy." He grabbed the Amulet up off the desktop. "Just need this."

* * *

She was sitting in the middle of the bed. All the lights off around her. Not even the light of the moon through the drawn curtains. Just the echoing light from the hallway, drifting into the room, as Spike entered.

"Buffy?" he asked, flipping on a light.

Buffy covered her eyes, squinting through the brightness to look at him. He glanced back at Dawn and Xander to reassure them that everything was under control, then shut the hotel door, and took another step inside.

"Spike," Buffy breathed. As if she couldn't quite believe it. Then she buried her face in her knees, and muttered something beneath her breath.

"Didn't catch that," said Spike, coming over to her.

"I said the Doctor was right," said Buffy. "You make things complicated."

Spike sat on the bed, beside her. Wanting to reach out and touch her, wipe her hair from her face, but not sure if he dared, with Buffy in such a delicate state.

"I wanted so much for this to be a dream," said Buffy. "I wanted so much to believe that I could just… wake up and make everything okay, again. But… if this is a dream… if I wake up…" Her voice trembled, her eyes falling on Spike, "…you'll be dead, again."

"Buffy," said Spike. "I'm not dead. Honest."

Buffy shook her head.

"Well, put it this way," said Spike. "Either I survived, or I'm the chattiest pile of vampire dust in bloody history."

Buffy gave a small laugh, despite herself. She closed her eyes, and drew in a long, deep breath. "I… missed you."

"Yeah," said Spike. Not really sure what else to say.

"I needed you with me," said Buffy. "So many times. I was so alone without you! And this whole time, you were alive, somewhere else, and… you never said! You survived, when I thought you were dead, and you never even called me up to tell me…" She opened her eyes, and gave him a long, sad stare. "Why?"

The answer stuck in Spike's throat, as he saw the raw, burning pain in Buffy's eyes.

"Do you really hate me that much?" Buffy asked him.

"I…" Spike hesitated. Feeling Buffy's words burning at him. Hate her. Hate her? How could he hate her? "Guess I just… wanted you to think of me the way I was," he admitted. "Hero. Giving up his life for the world. For you."

Buffy said nothing. Just letting the pain bleed from her.

"You said you loved me," Spike muttered. "Didn't want to meet you again. Thought… you might tell me the truth."

"Spike…"

"Well, you don't," said Spike. "Nice of you to say it. But let's face facts. You don't love me. Not really." He glanced down at the Amulet in his hand. "You're in love with him."

Buffy reached a hand out. Touched Spike's shoulder. "I need you," she said. "I wasn't ready to lose you. I'm still not. And if…" She trailed off. Then gave a bitter laugh. "If you're jealous, you just have to wait a few hours. I'll forget all about the Doctor. It'll be like he never existed in my life at all."

Spike stared down at the Amulet. Because a part of him knew that Buffy was right — that he could just wait for the Doctor to die, be selfish, let Buffy have loved him the way he'd always wanted her to love him. Love him without always thinking of that special someone else — waiting in his space ship, ready to take her into the heavens like she deserved.

Spike didn't have the heavens. All he had was his soul. And he'd fought for it, fought to make her the man she deserved.

Her Champion. The one she could trust.

Spike turned, and took a deep breath. Then told her the truth. "He's going to survive."

Buffy shook her head. Not believing him.

Spike raised up the Amulet. "We have the Amulet dug out from the Sunnydale crater," he explained. "It's _not_ this one. This is the Amulet _before_ the Final Battle of the Hellmouth. All charged up, and ready for me to put it on and have my finest moment."

"The Doctor isn't the only time traveler out there," said Buffy. "Lots of people could take it back to Wolfram and Hart."

"Yeah," said Spike. He put the Amulet down on the bed, in front of her. "But only one who'd remember what you told him — about me. And alter a Time Lord purification weapon so it saved one single vampire's life." He got up from the bed, and dug a cigarette from his pocket. "Think about it," he said, lighting up, as he walked out the door.

For a few moments, Buffy said nothing. Just picked up the Amulet, and stared at it. The Amulet that seemed so much like the one she'd thought had killed Spike. The Amulet that could absorb regenerative power, the Amulet created by Time Lords, the Amulet that… if Buffy understood the general stance of Time Lords on vampires… _should_ have killed Spike. Period.

But it had kept him alive.

Buffy got up off the bed. Eyes still fixed on the Amulet. Spike was alive. That meant… the Doctor was alive. The Doctor, who'd gone back into her past and stopped her, over and over again, from killing Spike. The Doctor who'd known that Spike could be better — for whom that assertion had been a hope, a promise, an affirmation. The Doctor who'd known that someday, Buffy would need Spike, and Spike would be there.

Continue to be there. Even when he should have died.

Buffy walked to the door of her hotel room. And opened it, to face her friends.

"I'm ready," she said.

* * *

Ria had tried to give Buffy back her job. She'd tried to give Buffy back her office, her position, her status in the Slayer Institution — everything. In fact, Buffy was half expecting her to shove a pile of papers in Buffy's face, and then run off.

Buffy had refused it all.

"I never wanted to be president of the Slayer Institution," she said. Then, with a sigh, realized, "I never even wanted to be a Slayer at all. Never wanted to save the world. Never wanted to be responsible. Never wanted any of it."

Ria frowned, but said nothing.

"I just came back for the Doctor," said Buffy. "That's it. After he gets better… I'm retiring. For good. No more Slayering for me."

The Doctor was much as he'd been before. Perhaps, Buffy thought, a little more peaceful-looking. As if someone had chased away his darkest, deepest nightmares, and cheered him a little.

"Hey," said Buffy, sitting down beside him. She fidgeted with the Amulet in her hands. "I guess… if you're where I think you are, in your personal timeline… you'll be wishing I was Rose." She grimaced. "Sorry about that. But… I have been pretty close with her, recently. She's kind of my fake adopted sister. So… that's got to count for something."

Silence.

"I just wanted you to know," Buffy continued. "About… the First. I think… that's the reason you got tortured. Like this is some kind of revenge-on-me thing. And I guess… if you hadn't run into me, back with that whole Omega incident, the First probably would have just been all angry-at-Buffy, and left you alone. So I'm sorry. For getting you wrapped up in this First Evil fight thing."

Again, silence.

Buffy opened her mouth to speak again, but decided against it. What was the point? He couldn't hear her — at least, she didn't think so — and her words weren't helping bring him back. Buffy placed the Amulet down on the Doctor's chest, allowing it to catch the sunlight.

Nothing happened. Just like she'd heard from Willow.

"I wish you were awake," said Buffy. "You'd probably give me a great big sciency explanation for why the Amulet isn't working." She reached out, to wipe some hair out of his face, then paused, and took her hand away.

She'd heard Ria's theory on the Amulet. That it had been designed for someone else. Spike's matching the criteria had just been an accident.

"I bet you knew whoever it was originally made for," said Buffy. She examined the Amulet. "A woman, probably." Which would explain the girly trim that had been used to set the gemstone. And the fact that it was a necklace. "Probably… some companion. Someone you wanted to make sure was safe, no matter what."

Then Buffy paused. And frowned. Thinking over the prophecy in her mind…

_Someone with a soul. Like a human, but stronger than a human. A Champion._

And something popped into her head, all at once. A snippet of a conversation she'd had long, long ago, when Martha had shown up, and Buffy had told her about the memory-wipe kiss.

_"Tell me about it," Martha had said. "He told me it was a 'genetic transfer'."_

Human — but stronger than a human. That was what would make the Amulet work.

The Doctor wasn't human at all. So it wasn't working.

Without a genetic transfer.

"All right, Sleeping Beauty," said Buffy, getting up off her chair, and bending over him. "When you meet Martha, you're going to owe her big for this one."

And then she kissed him.

Buffy knew it was working, because she could feel a faint glow issuing from the Amulet, spreading through the Doctor's body, giving him the power he needed to revive. And as she continued to kiss, she could feel him — ever so slightly, at first, but then more and more — kissing back.

And she could close her eyes, and imagine. That he knew her. Loved her.

(But he didn't. Not yet.)

He opened his eyes, and nearly knocked her over, as he abruptly sat upright on the bed, looking around himself. Inspecting his surroundings.

"Ro—" he began, but stopped. As he noticed the collapsed Buffy, sprawled across the hospital bed. He cringed. "Oh. Sorry."

Buffy picked herself up. "Yeah, thanks, Mr. Ungrateful," she said. "And while we're at it, thanks for trying to kill yourself. You really know how to give a world-saver a serious nervous breakdown."

The Doctor had stopped listening to her, however. He frowned, as he picked up the Amulet from the top of the sheets. "Leela's Amulet."

Leela. So… a girl. Score one point for Buffy.

"Leela," said Buffy. "Let me guess. Humanish, but stronger than a human? A Champion?"

The Doctor gave a small smile, but it was laden with sad memories. "My friend," he said. "Savage, yet noble. Born as a hunter, whose existence centered around the need to fight and kill. But she voluntarily chose to use those qualities for a higher purpose. And… there was a spirit inside her, a soul so bright — you could see it miles away!" He turned the Amulet over in his hands. "Ace and Romana created it. For Andred. Leela couldn't regenerate, and Andred wanted something Leela could wear, during the War, to help her."

Buffy said nothing. Just waited for him to continue.

He lowered the Amulet, with a sigh. "She never was the same, after Andred died."

"What happened?"

The Doctor said nothing for a long moment. "Sunlight," he said. "Her last wish. With so many battles in the darkness of space, she wanted… to die in sunlight." His eyes filled with a shadow of the horrible memory playing through his mind. "I wasn't there. Heard, later. Romana adjusted the Amulet. And Leela went out the way she always wanted. Destroying her enemies — and herself — in a blaze of light." He turned the Amulet over and over in his hands. "Always wished I could have saved her."

Buffy swallowed back her own pain, remembering how Spike had looked, in her own battle against evil, as he was surrounded by sunlight and about to die.

"Spike wore it, at the Final Battle of the Hellmouth," said Buffy. "To kill off all the Uber-Vamps, and defeat the First Evil. That… was how he died." She hesitated. "Or… whatever."

The Doctor glanced up at her. "Sorry?"

"You take that Amulet back in time," said Buffy. "To Wolfram and Hart. With some prophecy about purity and scrubbing bubbles and things. And then Angel gives it to me, a few years ago, and Spike—"

"Right, yes, understand that," the Doctor replied, dismissing the temporal suggestion. "First Evil, you said. You mean… Toby?"

Buffy nodded.

"Non-corporeal, all evil, Ood-possessing Toby?" the Doctor double checked. " _He's_ the one who hates you enough to want me to erase you from existence?"

"I guess so," said Buffy. She shrugged. "Demons have hunted me for sport, you know. You get used to this kind of thing, when you're the Slayer."

The Doctor's mouth formed a silent 'Oh'. Then his face settled into a pensive frown. And a hint of confusion. "Toby. He… shows up as dead people."

"Yeah."

"Never showed up as dead people before," the Doctor pointed out. "Must have learned that trick from Omega."

Buffy gave the Doctor a blank look, waiting for the explanation.

"The dark side of Omega's psyche manifested as psychic projections of the people he'd lost," the Doctor explained. "I learned that on _the Eurydice_. The psychic energy became tangible, in that sector of space, and began taking on a physical form. Taunting him. Which was hard enough, of course, with the guilt he bore for the wrongs _he_ committed. But with a copy of my mind, as well, he began to get confused. Threw my own guilt into the mix. Even believed he'd…" The Doctor paused. Then, a little quieter, "…committed… genocide." The Doctor winced, and in a voice barely above a whisper, added, "I seem to be making a habit of that."

Buffy reached out, took his hand in hers. "Doctor…"

"Still!" the Doctor cut in, grabbing up the Amulet and trying to leap out of bed. "You woke me up for a purpose. Better stop mucking about and go back in time, save at least one vampire—"

Buffy pushed him back down onto the bed, and held him there. "That's not why I woke you up."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Here he was, just as he'd been before, when Buffy knew him so well. Brushing things off, pretending they didn't matter, pretending he was completely fine — when he'd wanted to let himself die a few minutes ago.

"I wanted…" Buffy stopped herself. Realizing that… she wasn't sure exactly _what_ she wanted.

She wanted him to take her with him, wanted him to love her, wanted him to know she'd come back from the dead. But none of that could happen with _this_ him. _This_ him had to go off and find Martha, and travel around getting over his death-wish and his grief at losing Rose. _This_ him barely knew Buffy — definitely didn't know that she'd died — and that made most of the things Buffy wanted impossible.

"I wanted to make you better," Buffy said, at last. "Like you always made me better, all those times we met, in the past."

A hint of a very dark shadow passed over the Doctor's face. "You can't."

"Why not?" asked Buffy. "I mean, I know you're upset about the vampire thing, but… you were right. Those vampires were evil, unstoppable killing machines, and if you hadn't got rid of them, they'd have wiped out humanity, then started in on the rest of the universe. They'd never…"

"And how do you know that?" the Doctor demanded, his voice hard, all traces of lightness whisked away in an instant. "Your friend, Spike — he chose to regain his humanity. How many others might have been like him, if I'd given them the chance? How many others might have saved the world, some day, if I hadn't murdered them all in a fit of rage?"

"One in a billion!" Buffy insisted.

"I got it wrong," the Doctor hissed. "They _weren't_ like Daleks. They could change! And I took that away from them. I never even gave them a chance."

And that was when Buffy realized.

What had happened, in her past. Why it had happened. And who had asked him to do it.

"You're right," Buffy said. "You didn't give them a chance. But you _will_. Because you're going to go into your TARDIS, travel back into my past, and give them that chance. Over, and over, and over again. Every time I try to patrol, every time I try to stake a vampire, you're going to be there to stop me, and give them that chance they deserve."

The Doctor sighed. "Buffy—"

"Elizabeth!"

"Elizabeth," he corrected. "I can't. Time doesn't work that way. What's happened has happened. I can't just—"

"You sure as hell can!" Buffy interrupted. "Because I remember you doing it. I remember you being the most massively annoying pain-in-the-butt about vampires! All 'give them a chance' and 'they're sentient life forms' and — there was this one time that you grabbed the stake right out of my hand without my even noticing, and when I tried to stake a vampire, I nearly fell flat on my face!" She rolled her eyes. "Trust me! You'll nearly die a thousand times turning those vampires human again. I know! I remember!"

The Doctor stared at her.

"And I always yelled at you, always told you that tricking them into killing themselves was just the same as staking them through the heart. But you know what?" She leaned in closer, staring him in the eye. " _I was wrong._ "

The Doctor said nothing for a few long moments. "Ah," he said, at last.

"Yeah."

"And when I've done all that," the Doctor said, "you'll forgive me?"

Buffy took his hands in her own. Feeling every ounce of love and desperation and happiness flood through her.

"Turns out, I'm kind of a forgiveness sucker," she said. "So I've already forgiven you. Just kind of couldn't help myself." She gave him her kindest smile. "But maybe… this'll let you forgive yourself."

And for the first time since Buffy had seen him, since he'd appeared at this point in time, a spark of life appeared in his eyes. A spark of real happiness, real hope, real determination to continue doing what he'd been doing forever.

Without either of them knowing who initiated it, both fell into a great big hug.

"Brilliant," the Doctor said. "Brilliant Buff—Elizabeth. Never should have doubted you."

Should have doubted…? Oh, yeah. With the Scythe thing. The Doctor thinking she'd been using the actual ripping-holes-in-the-universe Oblivion Scythe. Buffy had forgotten about that.

Well, maybe she could use that guilt to her advantage.

"There's just… one thing you can do for me, to make up for that," Buffy whispered. "One really important thing."

The Doctor pulled out of the hug, looking at her quizzically, raising an eyebrow.

Buffy took a deep, deep breath — preparing herself to say what she really wanted to say. What she'd always wanted to say.

Not that she'd died — that was in his future.

Not that she'd been resurrected — that would imply she died, and the Doctor would be able to work out, from there, exactly what had killed her, and make sure Dawn never existed.

Just one simple request.

"Remember," Buffy begged him, "that I'm alive. In 2005, right here, right now — I'm alive."

* * *

Audrey hadn't realized she was typing anything. Had drifted into a trance. Until Ria showed up, and started her out of it.

"Why'd you write that?" Ria asked, leaning down to squint at the computer screen.

Audrey looked at it, too. A little alarmed, as she read the message she'd typed, over and over again, on the screen. Line after line completely identical.

_Death is coming. Death for all._

_Death is coming. Death for all_.

"I don't know," said Audrey. "I thought… I mean, death already came."

Ria stood up straight. Sighed. "Or maybe not."

* * *

"The investigation is concluded," one said to another — his superior. "Our proof is undeniable, and fully documented. The events that have transpired on Earth, 2004, have shown its destructive potential. Predicted its ruthlessness, resourcefulness, and passion. The companion, Ace, has demonstrated that the probabilities for the future have already begun falling into place. The truth is clear — what we have feared has already happened. The other party cannot deny it. Death will be unleashed on this universe. Death for all."

The superior frowned, in thought. "That is… disturbing." Then, with a deeper frown. " _All_ of this is very disturbing."

"But true. And if we don't act, immediately, you know what could happen."

"Yes. Yes, I do. But I still find it distasteful. Nearly distasteful as your own actions."

"You can review my actions later. This is of more urgency. The fate of everything is at risk."

"For which… you propose we adopt your plan."

A pause from the man. Then, with hesitation, "There are some… alternatives."

"Such as?"

"We could erase Buffy Summers from history, instead," the man proposed. "Tear her out of time. Eliminate the problem entirely."

"No. Certainly not."

"Or the Doctor…?"

"The Doctor should never have been involved in this in the first place."

The man clasped his hands behind his back. "With all due respect, the Doctor _is_ involved, now. We have to accept that. Contract or no, we must deal with the consequences."

"You think the Doctor would disapprove of our actions?"

"I'm certain of it. As would the Slayer, if she learned the truth."

"Then I suppose you're right. We must take action. Eliminate the threat immediately. Make sure that the matter is dealt with before either of them find out the truth." With a smile. "Or, at least, before they learn enough to stop us."


	38. Epilogue

Jack was cornered by the Viskolophonops. Its huge, slimy mouth open, displaying dozens of razor sharp teeth. Its mandibles clacking together, its eyes fixed on the helpless human it had just disarmed.

Jack spread his arms. "Go on," he said. "Wouldn't be the first time."

The Viskolophonops charged…

And was kicked back against the far side of the alley, denting a car nearby and setting off the alarm. The alien picked itself back up, trying to discover where his mystery assailant had come from, but she was back on him before he had time to uncover her location, dragging a sword down its soft underside, so that it gave one last desperate twitch, and then died.

Buffy jumped off the alien, towards Jack.

"Told you I didn't want you dead," she said, with a grin.

* * *

"You look happier," Jack remarked, as they sat down at a café nearby the Torchwood van. Where Buffy had, discreetly, managed to ditch her sword.

"I feel happier," Buffy agreed. "Just getting away from there, it's like…" She took in a deep breath of fresh air, to make a point. Then gagged on the smell of dead-alien that still clung to her clothes. "Okay, not exactly like that."

"And the Doctor?"

"Good," said Buffy. "Gone. I told him to check in on you."

"Hasn't so far."

"I never said he was good at doing what he was told."

For a moment, neither said anything. Buffy stared down into her coffee, her eyes drowning in the milky brownness of it.

"I'm sorry," she said, at last. "For how I treated you. I just… I feel terrible. I mean, I was going through some stuff, and I don't usually—"

"Woah!" said Jack, holding up his hands. "It's okay. It's fine. I'd just," with a wink, "like to do it again when you're a little more receptive."

Buffy gave a sideways smile. "Maybe later."

"I got time."

Once again, silence.

"Any idea what you're going to do with your life, now?" Jack asked.

"Not really," said Buffy. "I was thinking about bumming around here for a bit. The Tylers are here. And you're here. And Giles has been really nice about letting me sleep over at his house, for a few nights."

"It's a change, living in the UK," Jack told her.

"Yeah," said Buffy. "But I need a change. And a vacation." She paused. "And… money. I guess." She grimaced. "Damn, I forgot about money." She glanced up at Jack. "There isn't a Doublemeat Palace in the UK, is there?"

"You could always come work for me at Torchwood," said Jack. He gave a little shrug. "Get paid for doing what you're good at."

Buffy gave a small laugh. "Yeah, and wind up in another organization run by big-wig Doctor-fearers, where the average employee only survives about three years on the job. Like the Slayer and the Watchers' Council."

Jack considered this. "Well… that's not so good," he admitted. "But there are fringe benefits to working at Torchwood."

"Thanks," said Buffy. "But I can't do that, again. I've buried way too many people, recently. This is sort of more of a chance for me to stretch my legs, try something new, and get over the whole… Buffy-Death-connection that's going on."

"Cardiff," Jack explained, "is the rift the Doctor likes to use to refuel his ship. Stick around here long enough, and you'll catch up with him, again." He winked. "Might even be the one you're after."

Buffy hesitated. "Okay, that's actually a really good fringe benefit."

"Told you."

Then she sighed, and shook her head. "But… I dunno. Maybe it's better if I never meet the Doctor again. Just keep the memories I have, and move on." Her hand tightened around the coffee cup. "After all. Every time he meets me, stuff like this happens to him."

"That's not your fault," said Jack. "He gets into trouble no matter who he's with."

Buffy didn't seem convinced.

"Tell you what," said Buffy, with an abruptness that nearly spilled her coffee cup over, "if you Torchwood Cardiff guys ever need a hand, call me up. I can be, like, freelance or something."

"I'll do you one better," said Jack. "I'll give your name to UNIT and the others. Let them know that if there's ever an unspeakable evil they can't defeat using high-tech gadgets, you're the one to call. You'll get enough money that you won't have to flip burgers for a living, but you won't have to officially join anywhere."

Buffy's eyes lit up. "That's… wow. Thanks. I… really don't deserve that."

"Think of it as a thank-you," said Jack. "For saving the world so many times."

Buffy grinned.

"And for telling me why I can't die," Jack continued. "Which I'm sure you're going to start doing any minute now."

The grin fell, a little. "I don't know very much," she confessed. "And even if I did — it's not my story to tell."

"That's all right," said Jack. "I'm not picky. What you got?"

Buffy gave a small shrug. "Well, I do know one thing."

"Yes?"

"It definitely — _definitely_ — isn't Willow's fault!"

Jack waited for her to continue.

She didn't.

"That's all I'm getting," said Jack.

"What?" asked Buffy. "That's a lot. I mean, now you know that the reason you keep coming back to life isn't the reason _I_ keep coming back to life."

"Which would be… Willow," Jack verified.

"Yeah." She tilted her head to the side, staring off into the distance, frowning slightly. "If I ever did run off through time and space with the Doctor, I guess I'd have to take her with me. Otherwise, I might have trouble defying the laws of nature, when I die."

"You're really not going to look for him, anymore?" Jack asked. "You're really just giving up?"

Buffy swallowed around a lump in her throat. "I… don't think I'll ever stop looking for him," she admitted. "I think… maybe that's why I'm staying here. Because there's a part of me that's always looking for that Police Box." She looked over at Jack. "But I've got to move on, some time. Live my own life. Try to find my happy ending."

"Guess so," said Jack.

Buffy got up from the table, slipping back on her winter coat. "Thanks. For everything. And, really, if there's a massive apocalypse or something — you know who to call." She gave him a final grin, and then turned to leave.

Jack nodded, his eyes fixed on the table. Then, he started out of his reverie, and noticed she was leaving. "Buffy!"

She stopped, glanced over her shoulder at him.

"Just… if you're not going to tell me why I'm immortal," said Jack, "tell me this. Why's being around me a punishment, for you?"

Buffy said nothing, for a long moment.

"You and I, Jack," she said, at last, "we've both died. Both come back to life. We should be the same. But we're… opposites." She bit her lip. "Every time I run into you, I know it."

"How 'opposites'?"

"You'll always be alive," Buffy explained. "Inside and out. No matter what or when or where or how. You'll always, always be alive."

Jack frowned. "And you?"

A hint of that horrible, lonely coldness drifted through Buffy's eyes, and she turned away. That deadness, deep inside. "Take care, Jack."

Then she — Buffy Anne Summers, the Slayer, the sister, the friend, lover, and forgiver — walked off into the distance, and faded out of sight.


End file.
